Unintentionally Yours
by Dinkel
Summary: What if Voldemort has found another way to get what he wants? What if he wants something else now? He proposes a contract to insure peace between the Light and the Dark and of course it involves Harry... HPTR or HPLV slash...
1. The Proposal

**Disclaimer: All the characters and places and everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling. And I don't make money with this. **

**Author's Note: This story has HP/TR or HP/LV as main pairing so this is SLASH and if you don't like that you should leave. I totally disregard HPB and the ending of OotP, so Sirius is still alive (yay!). Also you should bear in mind that English is not my mother tongue and though I tried to catch all the mistakes I can't guarantee anything.**

**Warnings: Slash, Extreme Physical Abuse, Rape, Non-con, Lemon, mpreg, OOCness**

**So now enjoy the first chapter and if you do you could maybe, if you're not to busy, write a nice little review, please?**

**1. THE PROPOSAL**

"You can't be fucking serious about this", screamed Harry furiously, dropping the paper he had been reading.

"I fear we are, Harry", Dumbledore replied in an unusual grave voice, but the twinkle in his eyes still not missing, "This is the only opportunity we have. I think, the offer is quite reasonable."

"This is **not** reasonable. How can you even consider this? It's not like this is your decision to make", said Harry, the last sentence in a deadly calm voice.

"That is why we asked you to discuss this with us, my dear boy, we...", started Dumbledore again, but Harry interrupted him: "I'm not your 'dear boy'. In fact I don't want to discuss this with you. You interfered enough with my life as it is! So sod off."

"Now, that's probably a bit harsh, don't you think so, Harry?", intervened Cornelius Fudge, Minster of Magic since six years, "We all have your best interests at heart."

Harry snorted: "Of course, you have, how could I ever forget? I mean when I told you Voldemort was back you were the first at my side, believing in me, supporting me. And where would we be now, if you hadn't reacted so fast and determined? Yes, I see what you mean, you have my best interests at heart!", he answered his voice full of irony and deliberately ignoring the flinch at the mention of Voldemort's name.

The other occupants of the room exchanges looks clearly asking who should make the next move to convince the boy-who-lived, that this was the best for all of them. About the room, they were currently in the headmaster's office and since Harry had lost his temper a few times it was covered in broken or exploded things. About the occupants, there was Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster himself looking old and absently stroking Fawkes, who had fled into his lap, Minster Fudge as mentioned before, who was at the moment fidgeting his lime green bowler between his sweaty hands, Professor Minerva McGonagall, Transfigurations teacher and Head of Gryffindor, who made a strict face and wore a matching scowl, Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master, Head of Slytherin and Death Eater (well, not really but you know the story), looking as though he would bit off every head crossing his glare, which was directed at Sirius Black, godfather of Harry, Animagus, convicted for murder of 13 people and the betrayal of Lily and James Potter, escaped from Azkaban after 12 years and not the least bit interested in Snape's glaring or disappointed in Harry's behaviour since in his opinion his godson had every right to be pissed, Lucius Malfoy, Death Eater, released from Azkaban for lack of evidence after only one night, presently working for the ministry, if you want to call it that, who looked as composed as ever and who was silently amused about the scene, which played in front of him, Rudolphus Lestrange, Death Eater and escapee from Azkaban, though he did a good job in recovering, seeming slightly impressed with Harry's performance and two Aurors who were there for the Minister's security but were at the moment tidying up the mess said performance left. And of course Harry Potter (or did you think he was standing outside the door?), boy-who-lived, second best student of Hogwarts after Hermione Granger, supposed to save the world over and over again.

Finally Dumbledore decided that it fell into his responsibility to calm the boy enough to have decent conversation and since Harry constantly declined his lemon drops, he asked: "And with whom do you want to talk about this contract?"

On first instinct Harry wanted to shout at the top of his lungs that he didn't want to talk about it, because it was apparent that he wouldn't accept it, anyway, and that they all should leave him alone and talk to the wall instead, but on second thought this seemed rather childish and so he pointed at Sirius and did his best not to blow up Dumbledore's bookshelf.

"Now, Harry, don't make fun of us, that's not very nice. You can't talk seriously to a **dog**!", Fudge declared and gave Harry a disapproving look.

"Thanks a lot for your demonstration of confidence, Minister, I'll make sure to remember that. Now, if you'll excuse me I will talk to my **dog**, who by the way owns certainly more intelligence than you", stated Harry, glaring daggers at the Minister, before walking swiftly out of the room without as much as a backward glance.

Said dog, also known as Sirius Black, appeared a bit taken aback by the last comment and it took him a few seconds, after which he realised that Harry had already left, and with a worried look around and snatching the contract from one of the Aurors who had just straightened it he left, too, while Dumbledore's bookshelves exploded, covering the floor with ancient looking tomes.

"Harry, are you okay?", Sirius asked tentatively as he eventually found him in one of the unused classrooms near the library, crossing the room and sitting down next to his godson.

"Do I look as if?", Harry made a noise somewhere between a sob and a snort, "Why does everything always have to happen to me?"

At a loss of words Sirius enveloped his now openly crying godson in a tight hug, rubbing soothing circles on his back: "Shh, it's okay, we'll work it out. Don't let them bother you so much. We'll work it out!"

"Why do they have to do this to me? Why can't they just leave me alone?", sobbed Harry into his shoulder shaking violently and clutching to Sirius tee-shirt as if his life depended on it.

The Animagus only tightened his embrace, since he couldn't come up with anything to say that didn't consist of curses.

After Harry had calmed down and Sirius' leg was hurting like hell, he said: "Come on, Harry. Have you read all of it"- as Harry shook his head in the negative, he continued – "well, then, we'll have to read it now. For we can't have you freak out and demolish Dumbledore's office only over the half, when we could have you freak out and demolish Dumbledore's office over the whole thing!"

As the boy in his lap gave something near an amused laugh, he unfolded the offending paper and held it in front of both of them so that they could read together:

_MARRIAGE CONTRACT_

_I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, better known as Lord Voldemort, hereby state my intention to marry Mr. Harold James Potter._

_By accepting this contract I give my promise _

_1.) To end the war and all hostile actions against the Wizarding World and the Order of the Phoenix and hold peace_

_2.) To train and teach Mr. Potter to the best of my abilities, or should Mr. Potter want to study a subject, in which I cannot provide any help, find a appropriate teacher _

_3.) To provide a home as well as food, clothing and other supplies for Mr. Potter_

_4.) To allow Mr. Potter to visit his friends and family every first weekend every month, unless said weekend would coincide with a holiday_

_5.) To not hurt Mr. Potter willingly or deliberately_

_By accepting this contract I expect_

_1.) The Wizarding World and the Order of the Phoenix to end the war and all hostile actions against my person and the organisation called Death Eaters, to refrain from prosecution and to hold peace as well_

_2.) Mr. Potter to have at least once a week sexual intercourse with me and to refrain from any sexual intercourse with other persons _

_3.) Mr. Potter to be present when I require his company and not to be separated from me for more than two weeks_

_4.) Mr. Potter to not jinx, hex, curse or hurt any member of the Death Eaters or me_

_If any of these conditions is to be broken by either party this contract is to be considered invalid._

"That's it: My happiness against peace for the whole Wizarding World!", Harry sighed as soon as they had finished reading.

"So it looks", admitted Sirius, wrapping his arms tighter around the small body in his lap, "But maybe you can be happy, too", Sirius tried to convince his godson as well as himself.

Judging by Harry's unbelieving expression, he wasn't very successful: "You don't really believe that, do you? How could I ever be happy with the monster who killed my parents? And so many others, just for fun, for entertainment,..."

"This contract would stop his mindless killing", the Animagus interjected gently.

Harry gave a tired nod before sighing again: "That's the good thing about this whole thing."

"And what is the bad thing?", asked Sirius, silently fearing that Harry might loose his temper, if he spoke too loud.

"I can hardly see my friends, I can't curse the Death Eaters and... I have to sleep with that bastard", Harry confirmed with a slight blush.

Kissing the unruly black hair, he said: "Well, I think we could negotiate about the first two points, but I'm afraid there's no way to get around the last one. Sorry, Harry."

"Not your fault", mumbled Harry, before straightening up, "But there'll be no more deaths and I won't have to kill him, so that's good, right? And I'll survive the other... stuff, as I always do. I think that's worth the peace, isn't it?"

"I would rather live in war than have you go to that monster, but that's only my opinion and I never was very sensible, come to think of it", growled Sirius and Harry erupted in sudden laughter because Sirius sounded so much like his Animagus form.

Kissing his godfather's cheek and murmuring a soft "Thanks!" he got up: "I'll go fetch someone for the negotiations. Who would you suggest?"

"Lucius Malfoy, since we need someone to discuss our demands with and since he is from an old Wizarding family he will most likely know the laws and regulations. And Severus Snape, though I can't stand the greasy git, but he's damn good with formalities and we need someone to represent the Wizarding World", answered Sirius with a bit of hesitation and after an approving nod, Harry vanished through one of his secret passageways.

Harry walked slowly through the castle, he had called home since almost five years, bit by bit digesting the information he had just got. The war had been going on since almost two months now and neither party had succeeded in achieving more than little victories once in a while. St. Mungo's was crowded with injured and cursed people and their families and friends wanting to know if they would be alright. Deep in his heart, Harry knew that what he was going to accept was a good thing for he could save them all the war and the pain it would bring, but why was it always him? Why did they expect a not yet sixteen year old boy to solve their problems and save their world? And what the bloody hell did Voldemort think he was doing? While he had been thinking and cursing under his breath he had reached the gargoyle, which guarded Dumbledore's rooms and with a silent "Milky Way" he was on his way up to the office. As soon as he reached the staircase which would carry him upstairs he heard angry shouting and what sounded suspiciously like a fist hitting a table.

"You can't seriously consider letting that boy decide whether to accept or not. He's obviously not right in the mind, speaking to a **dog**, for Merlin's sake. And you want that child to decide over the welfare of the whole Wizarding World. I say, we accept the peace offer right away, what good will it do to burden a child with the decision?", Fudge argued heatedly.

"You seem to forget, Minister, that it is that child, who will have to fulfil the conditions of the contract. And that if that child decides to just don't fulfil them, the contract will be seen as null and void. And that that child is standing in the doorway hearing every word you say and could easily transfigure you into a dog so that you would see that some animals understand what humans say- not that there's much of a change you would rank among them", Harry remarked with cold anger, "Mr. Malfoy and Professor Snape, would you be so kind as to accompany me to Snuffles so that we can negotiate our demands?"

"But we can't have Death Eaters strolling around our school, it was...", spluttered Fudge.

"May I remind you that one year ago you assured me Mr. Malfoy is no threat to the society and an honoured man?", commented Harry staring into the Minister's eyes, "However I can assure you now that he will be no threat while he is here, am I correct Mr. Malfoy?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter, I think you are", Lucius Malfoy replied smoothly, stepping to the door and opening it for Snape and Harry to walk through.

Snape, offering a last glare to Fudge who had been on the receiving end of his glares since Sirius had left, walked outside closely followed by Harry.

"So may I ask which conditions you want to have changed", inquired Lucius Malfoy, stepping beside Harry as soon as they had passed the gargoyle.

"Most of them, but that won't help me much, will it?", Harry retorted, "You'll see which ones will be changed as soon as we're there."

"And where is 'there'?", Snape snapped irritated.

"Near the library, one of the empty classrooms", Harry replied evenly, greeting one of the portraits as they passed.

"And why didn't you settle in one of the nearer ones?", he asked reproachfully scowling at the Fat Lady who dared looking his way.

"It's not far away if you use the short cuts", Harry stated, while leading them down one of the moving staircases.

Snape scowled even more: "And why don't we use the short cuts?"

Sending him a teasing smile Harry replied: "Well, because you are a teacher, Sir. We can't have you know all the secret passageways, now can we? Where would your poor students hide? By the way, we're there so you can stop giving me that look, Sir, it won't work anyway."

Sirius sat cross-legged on the floor as they entered, scribbling things on the contract and smiled reassuringly at Harry: "Hey, come here, I wrote a few things down for you, and I made copies of the contract", he explained softly, while Harry made himself comfortable.

"Can I burn one?", he asked hopefully gesturing to the other two men to sit down, which they did with matching scowls and as much dignity as you can sitting on the bare floor.

His godfather chuckled and handed out the copies.

"So, may we know which changes you want to be made?", Malfoy asked once again all business-like.

"Well, first I want that the peace offer is valid for both the Wizarding and the Muggle World", Harry began trying to decipher one of Sirius' scribbles.

"What would we want with the Muggle World anyway?", Malfoy commented, but made the correction.

"Secondly I want to continue my education here in Hogwarts. If he wants to give my extra lessons, I'm okay with that", Harry explained quietly.

Malfoy made a humming noise, taking notes on what Harry had said, without giving any indicating if this was going to be alright.

"You can scratch the third one. I won't need him to buy my stuff. I have enough money of my own", ordered Harry, doing as he had said.

The Death Eater snorted: "You mean to tell me, that you could buy decent clothing but prefer to walk around in these rags?"

"If I had bought new clothes my relatives, would have taken them away", replied Harry, "And you may not think along the same lines, but some of this stuff is really comfy!"

Malfoy exchanged a confused look with Snape, who seemed to think about the explanation.

"Then I request more visiting time with my friends: Every second weekend plus the vacations. And they'll get the opportunity to see me whenever they like, as long as they swear not to disrespect any of you", Harry continued, ignoring the reactions.

"I'll have to discuss that with the Dark Lord, it seems a bit much", stated Malfoy.

"You do that, Sir", agreed Harry, "Then I want to clarify that none of you Death Eaters will hurt me, either, and that Voldemort will order no-one to hurt me in any way."

At this one Malfoy looked up sharply: "Why should he order us to hurt you? You are to be his husband, he will protect you!"

Harry seemed stunned a few seconds before he answered: "Fine, then make it clear."

He unconsciously snuggled closer to Sirius, looking lost and small between the grown-up men.

Sirius laid one arm protectively around his shoulder and proceeded: "For the expectations: We don't like that point with the company. Harry is not a rare animal, you can take from its cage and show around whenever you feel like it. I would suggest that Harry can decide not to come when he has a reason not to or gets the right to veto Voldemort's request."

"I will have to check that with the Dark Lord, too, anything else?", said Malfoy, trying to stay patient and polite.

"Actually yes, we think the condition with not hexing you lot has to be revised", Sirius answered smugly.

"And why, may I ask, is that so?", questioned the Death Eater, exchanging an irritated look with the Potion's Master.

"Well, Harry is a wizard and every wizard should be able to use magic", smiled Sirius, "And as he is James' son and practically one of the Marauders, he has to be able to pull pranks!"

"I fail to see your logic, but I will discuss that as well. Was that the last point?", inquired Malfoy.

"No", Harry said, straightening up, "I have one last demand: I want Peter Pettigrew transferred to the Ministry with a full confession on his lips!"

"I'll see to it", promised Malfoy with a smile tugging his lips, "I can't stand that rat!"

Harry gave him a genuine smile.

"That should be all then, unless Snape wants to add something", declared Sirius sorting through his papers.

"I think it should be agreeable and since the Minister wanted to accept it in the first place I think we're done here", answered Snape.

"I think, the documents will be ready in about two days unless we can't agree on one point", Malfoy confirmed, standing up and brushing his robes, "Mr. Potter, we'll see you soon!", he said, taking Harry's hand in his own and kissing the back of it.

Harry blushed a little, but nodded in acknowledgement, before fleeing again into Sirius' arms.

"What do you think shall we call it a night?", Sirius asked gently, "Do you want to sleep in my rooms tonight?"

"Carry me?", begged Harry and he looked once again so fragile and lost that Sirius couldn't resist, even if he had wanted to.

"Sure thing, Honey", he took him into his arms sent Snape a glare, which was returned, and carried him to his rooms, where he lived together with Remus Lupin, while Harry fell asleep.

**Review? puppy-dog eyes**


	2. Negotiations

**Disclaimer:The Harry Potter universe doesn't belong to me and I don't make money with this.**

**Author's Note: I want to thank all my wonderful reviewers, although for some reason I wasn't able to answer all of them, because I read them and then I decided to answer them later and then there weren't displayed anymore, so I sincerely apologise to those I couldn't answer, though I don't think that my answers are much to look forward to, anyway. Okay, I'm probably annoying you or you already skipped down to the story, so enjoy...**

**2. NEGOTIATIONS**

Sirius watched his godson sleeping on his sofa. He was concerned about him. It was not only the contract and the turn which would be following suite. He had looked pale, when Remus and he had fetched him from his Muggle relatives, who had been acting odd and rude towards them, but that was perhaps because they were Muggles. Then there was the fact that he had flinched violently, when Remus had touched his back for the first time this afternoon and that he was even thinner than before.

"What are you thinking about, Paddy?", asked the quiet voice of his lover and best friend Remus Lupin, who had snaked his arms around his torso from behind, "You looked worried."

Sirius sighed: „That's probably because I **am** worried. Do you know what this was all about?"

"Minerva told me during your talk with Malfoy and Severus", he looked over to the still form on the sofa, "They truly expect a lot from him and he's barely sixteen."

"I hate it that he has no other choice", Sirius growled, trying to murder the night sky with his eyes.

"He could always refuse", the werewolf interjected softly and kissed Sirius' nose to get his attention back.

Sirius snorted: "You know, he would never let them fight on, if he has a chance to stop them without killing anyone. Sacrifice himself for the greater good! That's it- he has no choice!"

Remus looked thoughtful and guided Sirius to their kitchen so that they wouldn't wake up the topic of their conversation.

"Can we help him?", Sirius asked, sending the werewolf a pleading look, "Can we do something to make it at least easier for him?"

"We can be there for him!", Remus said without hesitation, "We can be there if he needs our help! Except that? I fear there's nothing we can do, Paddy. Let's grab a bit of sleep, okay?"

Sirius nodded, took the last sip of his tea and followed Remus to their bedroom, giving Harry a goodnight kiss on the way.

While Hogwarts and its few occupants surrendered to sleep, Lucius Malfoy and Rudolphus Lestrange were on their way to the Dark Lord, who at the moment waited impatiently for his servants' return.

The room was shadowed as they entered, only illuminated by the dying fire in the hearth and a magical torch near the door. The dark furniture and wall colour didn't help the feeling of darkness. Near the fire laid a snake and in one of the corners stood a house-elf almost unnoticed, patiently waiting for its Master to retire so that it would be able to clean the room.

Lucius Malfoy graciously approached the armchair, in which Lord Voldemort currently resided, and while Lestrange bowed silently, he greeted: "Mylord, we have returned with news from Hogwarts and your soon-to-be-husband."

"So I guess, they accept my offer?", the most powerful Dark wizard inquired in a darkly amused voice.

Malfoy allowed himself a contemptuous little smile, before replying: "Fudge wanted to accept right away, but Potter suggested a few changes."

"Well, how did Potter react?", asked the Dark Lord, hiding the eagerness in his voice.

"First he didn't believe it, then he started screaming and destroying the headmaster's office with accidental magic, then he talked to his godfather and insulted Fudge", Lestrange answered, using a monotone voice.

"He insulted the Minister?" Voldemort interrogated, "Why ever did he do that?"

Lucius started to tell the whole story with occasional help from the other Death Eater and went then over to report about the negotiations handing over the corrected contract.

"Not very modest, now is he?", said Voldemort, after having finished his reading, "I can't see me accept these conditions as they are."

"I think it was mostly Black's doing, he didn't seem to be interested in it too much. He only wanted to have Pettigrew transferred to the Ministry!", Malfoy responded.

"Well, then we should arrange a meeting so that we can negotiate further", Voldemort suggested, though there was no way to refuse and his two servants nodded dutifully, "Where is Severus, by the way, I thought I ordered him to come, too?"

"He asks to be excused, since Dumbledore wanted to talk to him about the Wolfsbane Potion, he is to brew for that werewolf. And with the peace offer he has no excuse to be dismissed earlier, for it won't be necessary to 'spy' on us any longer", solved Lestrange with a little bow just as the man in question made his appearance, bowing as well.

"Do you have something new to report?", questioned the Dark Lord still completely hidden by the darkness.

"Mylord, it seems as if Harry Potter doesn't trust the headmaster as he did before. He mouthed the concern that he may lose him", replied the Potions Master.

"Lose him? Indeed he will!", Voldemort declared, dismissing his servants with the order to arrange the meeting and look for further information about the Potter boy.

It had been over one year ago, when he had started to want that boy. That night he had seen his power and the great resource it would give him, among other things... The way he had looked up at him knowing that he would die, but unwilling to give up yet, had fascinated him to no end and he had promised himself that he would have him. It didn't bother him too much that he had to cease the war, for it hadn't been very successful anyway, save of course that the whole Wizarding World was frightened that he might appear on their doorstep, which filled him with a sardonic glee. This was one reason why he wanted him, the other was that he would have Dumbledore's prize, his treasure, his weapon, his fate, that one factor which was the Light side's advantage and soon would be his. It was not that he had an optimistic attitude- it was realistic, for he always got what he wanted: He wanted to be in Slytherin- he was sorted into Slytherin; he wanted to be the best student- he was the best student; he wanted to discover the Chamber of Secrets- he discovered and opened the Chamber of Secrets; he wanted to be Head Boy- he was made Head Boy; he wanted to have a new body to intimidate- he got a new body, which he now had come to regret and had remedied with one of Severus' potions; he wanted to kill the Potters- he... okay scratch that, but he almost always got what he wanted. And this would be no exception to the rule. With such joyful thoughts he stood up, hissed good night to Nagini and made his way to his chambers.

As soon as Sirius and Remus had closed the door to their room, Harry opened his eyes again and went to one of the large windows which faced the lake. He hated to put on the act, it felt like lying to his godfather, but he couldn't bring himself to burden him with his problems, because he seemed to be happy, which hadn't been the case in a long time. The stars shone brightly and reflected on the undisturbed surface of the lake so that it looked like a second sky. The Forbidden Forest seemed also quiet and peaceful, not dangerous and wild, although Harry knew that it was exactly that, and Hagrid's hut (at the moment not inhabited, for he was on a visit in Beauxbatons) appeared to come directly from an Muggle fairytale. Why? This was the question that repeated in his head again and again and again and he couldn't find the answer. Even if he had wanted to, he wouldn't have been able to sleep with all these thoughts on his mind. But he didn't like sleeping anyway, so that was no problem at all. The problem was the reason why he didn't like sleeping: nightmares. Harry could hardly remember a night, when he hadn't woke up screaming and tossing in his bed. So now he preferred to skip the sleeping and dreaming part of the day and go on, also because this meant that he was never unguarded or totally defenceless. Here, in Hogwarts you didn't have to worry about safety, not really with Dumbledore and his **super wards**. It was kind of frightening that even his inner voice sounded ironical and bitter. Dumbledore's super ward hadn't helped him this summer nor the last... Best don't think about it, he ordered himself and decided to go for a little walk, since sleeping was out of question. Silently he left the room, using one of his secret passageways to the front doors and further in the direction of the Forbidden Forest, which yes was dangerous and wild, but not to Harry Potter, for he had most of the animals, creatures and spirits on his side. And at the moment he wanted to meet with one of the unicorns or centaurs and they would protect him with all their might so that he would be more than safe.

"Hey there, Niveus", Harry greeted, smiling slightly as the unicorn's nose pushed gently against his belly, "It has been a rough day!", he announced as he swung himself on the silvery white back.

"Where have you been?", asked the sharp voice of the Minister, who had obviously recovered from yesterday's shock and had decided to make up for his rude attitude with an even ruder attitude.

Harry closed the door to Dumbledore's office after Sirius and himself, raising an eyebrow in true Snape-fashion: "I've gone for a ride and Snuffles, as far as I know, slept in."

"I don't care what your dog did", Fudge spluttered and his fist connected with Dumbledore's desk.

"Then why did you ask?", he replied innocently, faking a puzzled look and made his way to the chair next to Lupin, who had taken McGonagall's place.

The Minister decided to change the topic: "And what have you been riding? It's not like Hogwarts has stables..."

"Actually it has. You know, the Thestrals? And to your question: One of the unicorns. Shall I describe him? He is white, a little silver near the eyes, with a spiralled horn on his forehead, golden hooves, his eyes are... ", Harry said in a mocking voice.

"I know what a unicorn looks like and you can't ride them!", Fudge interrupted and crumpled his bowler in rage.

"Maybe, Minister, you should consider that you can't normally survive the killing curse as well", replied a dark voice, coming from a black-haired man with blood-red eyes in his mid-twenties.

This shut the Minister up and allowed Dumbledore to introduce Harry to the new visitor who had just spoken, but he already knew who he was, because of his scar that had started hurting, when he had entered: "Harry, I'm sure you recognise Tom even though he has changed quite a lot since your last meeting!"

The Dark Lord extended his hand for Harry to shake, but he refused with the words: "I appreciate the act that you're putting on, but my scar hurts enough as it is and I'm not eager to worsen it, thank you very much", before he asked why they were here.

"Oh yes, about that. I have asked Severus to work on a potion to take away the pain", Dumbledore intervened cheerfully, disregarding Snape's deepening scowl.

"Fine, and why are we here?", Harry asked again, absently petting Snuffles, and tried to ignore his growing headache and the pain that seemed to radiate from his stomach so that soon after he couldn't have named, where it hurt the most- damned Dursleys!

"To negotiate further, of course", answered Tom Riddle, "Or did you think I would accept your conditions just like that?"

"No, what are your objections?", Harry replied evenly, but Voldemort's reply was cut short by the Minister: "First of all, I want to see the contract. You can't decide over our heads. I have tolerated this once, and only once."

All around the room objects started to shake and break or explode and one heavy-looking book dropped itself on Fudge's head, who collapsed with a muffled cry. Sirius began to bark, before hiding under Harry's chair, Dumbledore started to hum something that sounded suspiciously like 'Jingle Bells', the Dark Lord seemed to suppress laughing, Snape looked as if he was asking why he had to be alive at all, Lupin had cast a protective charm and was now waiting patiently for Harry to calm down and Malfoy and Lestrange stood there, ignoring the turmoil.

"Sorry", came after a while Harry's voice, his face covered in dust.

"Not a problem at all, though I guess Cornelius would think otherwise", Dumbledore offered and twinkled.

Harry sent him an odd look, but withhold to tell him that he didn't apologise to him but to Sirius, who was now licking his hand in affirmation.

"What I wanted to say, before we were so rudely interrupted, Harry, is that I object your suggestion to continue your lessons in Hogwarts", Tom Riddle proceeded still with an amused smirk, "For then I would be separated from you most of the time and as we'll be married this is highly inappropriate."

"Then you'll have to stay at Hogwarts, too", Harry explained firmly, "Hogwarts is my home."

"Your home is where I live", Tom said matter-of-factly.

"That is an excellent idea. What do you think, Tom, would you be able to teach Defence Against The Dark Arts the coming year? This way Harry can stay in Hogwarts and you can be in his company", the Headmaster exclaimed happily, rubbing his hands in glee.

Tom on the other hand looked more than doubtful, but nodded in agreement: "That could be possible. But then I insist on the visiting times, for you will see your friends in school."

"But I won't be able to see Sirius or Professor Lupin", Harry protested with a wary look to the still unconscious Minister.

"It looked to me that they are staying here as well", Voldemort answered and raised one eyebrow.

"Only until the beginning of the term. We plan to buy a house somewhere near the Scottish border, if you don't mind", Remus replied politely, but Sirius growled and showed some of his teeth.

"Half of the vacation and every first weekend a month", suggested the Dark Lord evenly, but the red eyes betrayed his anger.

"Half of the vacation, every second weekend and they may visit me whenever they like", the frail boy replied with a matching fire in his emerald eyes.

"Half of the vacation, every second weekend and they may visit you in case of an emergency", Tom bargained, twirling his wand between his long and slender fingers.

"And what", asked Lupin, "Would you consider an emergency?"

Tom thought about it for a while: "When one of you is near death."

Harry clenched his fists, both to distract himself from the pain that had intensified in his back and belly as well as in his head and in a vain attempt to control his anger: "That won't happen! When they really need me, that's an emergency. I will tell them not to come unless this is the case."

"You will come if I ask for your presence! And I will bear your expenses, since you fail to do that yourself! And you will not use magic on the Death Eaters or me with the intention to harm or humiliate", hissed Voldemort.

"You will send Wormtail to the Ministry?", Harry asked in a faint voice.

"Yes!"

"Agreed!", Harry accepted, before he doubled over and blacked out.

**Review?**


	3. Infirmary

**3. INFIRMARY**

Snape was the first at his side, disregarding Sirius, who whined and pushed him with his wet nose, but got no reaction. The Potion's Master was soon followed by Remus, who, while Snape was still checking his pulse, cradled the limp body into his arms and with a short "Infirmary" jogged out of the office with Sirius by his side. Snape and Dumbledore were the next to follow and Voldemort and his Death Eaters rushed out after them, even though in a more dignified way. This resulted in them all reaching the Hospital wing at the same time and in an extremely surprised and shocked Madam Pomfrey.

"What have we here? Now calm down, Sirius, you bouncing up and down won't help...", she started before she recognised the limp figure in Remus' arms, "Oh, Merlin! Bring him in here, be careful."

After she too had checked Harry's pulse, which gratefully was still there, and his eye reflexes she asked rather harshly: "Did he take any potion?"

"Do you think he poisoned himself?", Snape questioned in a voice filled with contempt and something like disappointment.

"Don't be ridiculous, of course not!", Madam Pomfrey looked really irritated by now, "Could someone tell me now, if he took any potion?"

"No", he didn't", replied the werewolf after he had exchanged a look with the dog to his feet, "Will he be alright?"

"I assure you he has survived worse and now out, all of you!", she ordered sternly, before rushing to her potions cabinet, from which she reappeared with two vials, one with a red, bubbling liquid and the other one a light blue, which Snape recognised as a strong Pain-relieving Potion that he used to take after a long night of Cruciatus curses.

It was quite a funny sight to see the five so totally different men all huddled together in front of closed doors with a sad and worried looking bear-like black dog to their feet, all wearing matching expressions of confusion or in the case of the ex-Slytherins a mask of indifference, all seemingly worried about one boy, they didn't really know, which was proved by the non-existence of any idea of what was going on. Snape wondered vaguely why the Dark Lord was still here, but at the moment he had other things on his mind. Such as, why did Potter collapse in the middle of a conversation? Well, he knew the answer to this one, he was obviously in pain- really bad pain, but that didn't explain, why there had been no warning at all. There had been no warning, right? This uncertainty was sickening. And Lupin's pacing was even more! And Dumbledore sucking on his bloody lemon drops! It was not like they were any good. They didn't even taste like lemon in the first place and they certainly didn't consist of lemon. Oh Merlin, he was thinking about lemon drops. He really had to busy himself with something. Pacing suddenly didn't sound so bad anymore...

Meanwhile Tom Marvolo Riddle had other things on his mind. He hadn't been the best student for nothing, he had recognised the blue liquid as well and although he knew that his presence caused the young hero pain, he hadn't thought it would be so... overwhelming. Something had to be done. Hadn't that old fool mentioned some potion? He had been to occupied with staring at his fiancé because he had forward insulted him (and because he was breathtakingly beautiful, but that was another subject all together). Wasn't he supposed to be nice to him? He had offered peace, for Salazar's sake, he should be grateful about that! Well, obviously he wasn't! Maybe he had just pulled some girlish stunt in fainting, to get their attention and their pity. Yes, that would be it.

Remus on the other hand was sure that Harry was seriously hurt or ill, for that matter. And he desperately tried to figure out what was wrong, while walking up and down in front of Severus' overly large nose. The ex-professor knew he had all the pieces: Harry being thinner, the flinch when he wanted to get his attention and had touched his back, the faint smell on him that reminded him of the full moon, the hurt and almost frightened look in his eyes, those strange Muggles,... He could have banged his head against the wall, but thankfully he was too reasonable to do exactly that. Just when he started a new lap of pacing, his eyes caught Sirius' ears, turned into the direction of the infirmary doors.

"Sirius Orion Black!", he growled and the werewolf in him was truly obvious, "What do you think you are doing?"- by now everyone had stopped whatever they had been doing and watched the two Marauders interact, to put it mildly, for it was more Remus acting and the Animagus looking guilty and backing away- "You can't seriously be eavesdropping on your own godson! If he wanted you to know what happened or what is wrong he surely would've told you, don't you think so! And don't give me that look, Black, playing lost-little-puppy won't work with me..."

Remus' ranting was interrupted by an agitated Madam Pomfrey, who opened the doors with such force that she would have got another patient, if Dumbledore hadn't jumped back in time: "What is all this shouting about?"

"Would you only let them in?", Harry's quiet voice asked and saved the ex-professor an explanation.

"We already had this argument, Mr. Potter. You are not to have any visitors, till you have fully recovered", the nurse snapped over her shoulder.

"So you expect me to stay in bed all week? And I **won** the argument last time, so, please, let them in", they heard Harry's voice once again and after a few moments of silence there was another "Please?"

"Fine, five minutes and **not** longer", the nurse said reluctantly, stepping back to let them pass, "And you will stay in bed and after they left you will take your potion without protest! Understood?"

Harry scowled but nodded: "Understood!"

Sirius was the first on his bed, well, to be more precise he was the only one on the bed, for even the Headmaster had enough dignity or honour or sense or whatever kept him from doing it, to jump on the bed. Remus was the next and claimed the chair, still murdering Sirius with his amber eyes.

"It's alright, Remus, he didn't hear anything, but thank you", stated the pale-looking boy with a grateful smile.

"How do you know?", Lucius Malfoy asked with a slight sneer on his face, although Harry was sure it was only to cover up his curios expression.

He smiled a little: "Because if he knew, he wouldn't be here sitting calmly on my bed"- Sirius looked up sharply, which looked rather odd, because he had snuggled his head under his godson's arm- "And now, if you don't mind I would like to finish this as soon as possible. Is there anything you wanted to make clear before we can sign, Voldemort?", his voice sounded different now or to be more precise it didn't sound at all, it was vacant of any emotion.

"I assume everything is okay with the contract, but we still need to agree on a date...", answered the Dark Lord.

"The second next Sunday, if it's alright with you", he suggested evenly thinking that this would give him one and a half weeks to inform his friends of the new development.

Voldemort nodded: "Am I right to assume that the marriage will take place here in Hogwarts?"

"That sounds perfect", the Headmaster replied with a huge smile plastered on his face, "I think we should be able to do all the preparations in time. So you won't have to worry about that... I shall create a portkey for your return to your aunt and uncle."

Harry paled even further and his hands clenched: "I won't go back there!"

"Now, and where else would you go?", Dumbledore questioned with a merry twinkle.

He was at a loss of words and just gaped at the Headmaster, too horrified to answer, but he got help from an unexpected direction: "Actually, my son asked me to invite Mr. Potter over to the manor to stay for the rest of the vacation", the elder Malfoy interjected smoothly, seeing the helplessness in the green eyes.

"You didn't tell us", stated the werewolf surprised, "Why not?"

"I didn't think you would approve of a friendship with Draco, seeing as you always were against Slytherins in general", Harry lied, sending Malfoy a thankful look, "And yes, I accept your invitation!"

"Sorry to destroy your plans, but I think Madam Pomfrey would like to keep you here, considering that you just passed out", Dumbledore interrupted not at all happy with the unexpected turn.

"Oh, you won't destroy them, Headmaster", retorted Harry, doing his best to stay calm and composed, "I'm sure Madam Pomfrey is used to me not staying as long as she requests by now."

"Right you are", the nurse declared with a grave voice but smiling eyes, "You are free to go, but don't overexert yourself or I'll lock you in the infirmary the next time you show up."

"Perfect", said Harry, getting out of bed and smiling back at the witch, swaying only a little bit, "I promise the next time you see me I will be conscious!"

"Shall we?", Lucius Malfoy asked silkily, offering his arm, "We should be able to fetch your things on the way."

Harry nodded glumly and after two quick hugs with both his godfather and Remus, a wave to Madam Pomfrey, a glare to Dumbledore and a glance to Snape he left with the Death Eater.

"Thanks, Mr. Malfoy", he said, after they had passed the front gates and continued their way to Hogwarts, "That was very nice of you, at least I think so..."

"Your welcome and I thought it nice, too", he smirked, but one could have mistaken it for a smile.

After a while the boy-who-lived asked insecurely: "I hate to ask this, but could you lent me some money so that I can get to Diagon Alley?"

"And what would you want in Diagon Alley? Don't tell me you actually decided to buy some decent clothes!", Malfoy teased lightly, though he really was confused why he needed to be there.

This statement however confused Harry: "Well, I planned to stay in the Leaky Cauldron for the time being, but I don't have money, so..."

"So you don't want to stay at the manor?", questioned the Death Eater a tad bit disappointed; he had looked forward to having someone there for a few days.

"Your invitation was serious?", asked Harry back.

"Of course it was!"

"Then I accept seriously!", he answered smiling as they reached a huge black limousine and got in with the assistance of one bouncing house-elf.

The inside was even bigger than the outside suggested and was fully equipped with a fireplace, a large bookshelf, a chessboard, three armchairs, a black leather sofa, a liquor cabinet and a door that supposedly led to a bathroom.

"Take a seat", offered Malfoy, "Would you like something to drink?"

"No thank you, Mr. Malfoy", he returned, sitting down in the chair nearest to the fire, "But could I have a blanket or something?"

"Sure", Malfoy snapped his fingers and a different house-elf appeared with a thick woollen blanket, "I didn't realise it was cold."

"I guess it isn't", Harry answered, not feeling up to telling him that it felt cold due to him being ill, "Mr. Malfoy, Draco wasn't really the one who wanted to invite me, was he?"

"No, he currently is in Spain with his mother and some of his friends", he replied, seemingly amused by the relieved expression on the boy's face, but decided not to comment on it as he took a seat on the sofa, "So may I ask why you don't have any money?"

Harry didn't like the turn their conversation had taken: "Well, you see...", he started and then decided to get it out as soon and fast as possible, "The Dursleys saw it fit to not give me any Muggle money, for in their opinion they did more than could be expected from them by providing me a roof over my head. They always take away my stuff as soon as I set a foot in their house so that I won't be able to do anything freakish, so I don't have a knut either..."

The elder Malfoy looked surprised, even shocked to those who were able to see past his mask: "So that is the reason you didn't want to go back there, I understand..."

"No, you don't", Harry answered fiercely, "You honestly think that I'm spoiled enough to refuse to go back there only because they don't give me enough sweets? Greetings to Snape, you can join his club!"

And with that he turned away, tightened his grip on the blanket and closed his eyes, indicating that this was the end of their conversation. Lucius let him be, he had some thinking to do anyway and one angry Harry Potter wasn't something he wanted to deal with at the moment. In all honesty he didn't want to deal with an angry Potter at all, he liked his body just as it was, thank you very much. So as mentioned before he started thinking- not that he wasn't thinking constantly, but this time he did it on purpose (okay, now it sounds like a crime). Harry Potter was in his car, on the way to his manor and he hadn't planned on it. That last point could constitute as a problem. Malfoys didn't do things on instinct, they just didn't. It wasn't all bad, he reasoned with himself, his manor was big enough to fit two Hogwarts in it, if he didn't want to be around him, he wouldn't need to. The Dark Lord hadn't said anything against his invitation- _that's probably because he was surprised and just because he hasn't yet doesn't say that it will stay that way_, argued the little annoying voice in his head, while they passed through London and the house-elf poured him an other drink. He could keep an eye on him, after all he would soon be married to his Lord and if his staring today held any hint, he was already very taken with his fiancé. Sure, he had given reasons for this contract, a valuable power resource, a big advantage, more freedom to plan their actions, as they wouldn't have to be afraid of being arrested on sight, but well, a Malfoy wasn't convinced easily and he knew that the Lord was far from selfish. Who wouldn't want a husband like the boy-who-lived? Beautiful, smart, brave, cunning, powerful, interesting, famous, loyal, caring. But there was more than meets the eye, the Death Eater continued his inner dialogue and he would make sure to discover it, sometime. Soon.

He didn't know how soon exactly it would be and he wasn't really prepared to find out the truth only an hour later, when they stopped in front of Privet Drive number 4, Little Whining.

He woke Harry with calling his name and declaring that they were at his home and he should go pack his things. The Death Eater didn't think about offering help for he knew that the little house-elf - was her name Wobbly?- would do so. He leaned back on the sofa and began contemplating if a gargoyle near his bedroom would destroy the modern style (see, told you, he thinks all the time).

Harry descended the limousine, noting his uncle's car in the drive way and the changing light from the living room window, indicating that all three Dursleys sat contentedly on the sofa in front of the TV most likely watching an action film with either a lot of shooting and fighting or a lot of naked women, or if today was their lucky day, both.

But one thing was for sure: Today was **not** his lucky day. He had to take several deep breathes, before he was able to open the baby-blue painted garden fence (one of his welcome-home-chores) without trembling and masked the feeling of impending doom and fright with calmness, though it was only on the outside. As Harry knocked tentatively on the door, he wished he had asked Lucius Malfoy to accompany him- stupid Gryffindor pride of his!

The door was opened with force and a big, purple face appeared: "What do you wa...", Harry felt a small wave of happiness that his uncle was rude to everyone, before Vernon Dursley realised it was his nephew on his doorstep, "Oh, you're back, boy, I'm sure you missed us...", he said in a false sweet voice, grabbing his shoulder and dragging him inside, before slamming the door shut behind them.

"I'm just here to pack my things, I'll...", Harry tried to inform him, but was interrupted by his uncle's fist and he fell to the floor.

_How could I've been so stupid to believe that wouldn't happen,_ he thought bitterly as hit after hit and kick after kick rained down on his body.

Meanwhile Lucius Malfoy sat in his favourite armchair, nipping on a glass of scotch, and made a mental to-do-list, which mostly had points like: order the house-elves to tidy up the east wing attic, or: tell the house-elves to buy some more of that chocolate chips ice cream, when one of those to-be-ordered-around house-elves appeared in front of him, with a panicked expression on its tiny face and started to bounce up and down, while screaming in a high-pitched voice: "Master Malfoy, Master Malfoy, Sir has to come with Wobbly, Sir. Harry Potter, is in danger, Sir, you have to save him, Master Malfoy. Sir has to help,..."

That was enough for the Death Eater and he jumped, as gracefully as only a Malfoy can when in such hurry, out of the car and raced to the Dursleys' door, shooting a well aimed Alohomora its way.

Of course the door would have opened since the Dursleys weren't able to spell lock their doors, but something huge blocked the doorway- Vernon Dursley, who was so into beating his nephew, he didn't notice the tall blond man behind him and so he got a bit of s shock as he was flung in the air and crashed into the next wall.

"Now, listen Muggle", a very agitated Lucius growled, "You will never ever set hand on your nephew again. You will stay in this house and if you are very lucky and the Dark Lord doesn't think, you should be punished for this, you will live, but I doubt that. Did you understand this?"

The Muggle gulped and nodded, before crawling through the next door.

A pained cough brought Lucius out of his musings about why exactly he had become a Death Eater. He rushed to the curled up body on the floor, but as he tried to roll him over, he flinched so violently, that he stopped.

"Potter?", he said in the softest voice he could muster, "Harry? It's okay. He won't touch you ever again, you're save. I promise..."

His eyes fluttered open and locked to his: "Don't... tell anyone..."

To say that Lucius was confused would be an understatement, to say that he was worried would be the understatement of the year, but that would have to wait: "Harry?", he asked again, "I'm no healer. I will have to bring you either to St. Mungo's or to Hogwarts, which one would you prefer?"

"Neither", it was barely more than a whisper, "I promise I won't die, I'll be fine in a couple of days, please, don't...", his voice broke once again.

Why didn't he want him to bring him to a healer? He needed a healer that much was clear, even to the Death Eater's eyes. Why hadn't he told anyone the real reason, why he didn't want to go back here? Surely, if Dumbledore had known he would've allowed him to stay at Hogwarts. To any other student it would have been the obvious choice and Harry was Dumbledore's Golden Boy, for Salazar's sake.

But Lucius Malfoy was not a man to assume that what seems obvious was always right and at the moment he had little time to let these things bother him too much, so he approached the beaten boy carefully: "Okay, I call a truce: I won't tell anybody and I won't bring you to a healer, unless your condition doesn't improve in the next three days. I will bring you to my home and you will drink any potion I see fit. Truce?"

Silence followed, in which Harry searched for something in his eyes, what he didn't know, but he seemed to find it: "Truce!", even weaker than before and his eyes closed again.

Malfoy took this as a sign to get him in the car and then as fast as possible to the manor.

"I will have to carry you", he informed him.

"Stupefy."

It took a moment for the Death Eater to realise, what he wanted him to do: "Are you sure?"

The boy tensed visibly and his jaw clenched, but he gave a short nod. Malfoy administered the spell, before taking the limp body in his arms and making his way to the limousine closely followed by Wobbly.


	4. Malfoy Manor

**Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me, but to J.K.Rowling.**

**Author's Note: I was so in awe with all the reviews I got that I totally forgot to put an Author's Note or a disclaimer in front of the last chapter, but since I seldomely say something interesting, anyway, and since really everyone should know that J.K.Rowling came up with all the characters and not me, I don't think it's so bad, but I still decided to write some more information to my story down.**

**The story takes place in Harry's 6th year, meaning HBP never happened and since I just like him too much Sirius is also still alive. Dumbledore is evil, Voldie is... well, he's still Voldemort, but he's rather nice deep, deep, deep down inside. **

**emphasis**

_thoughts_

_"speech"_

_/Parseltongue/_

**So now on with the story, thanks for all my wonderful reviews.**

**4. MALFOY MANOR**

"Wobbly, please, it's boring. I want to do something, anything. I've spent the last week in this room, I can't see it anymore", Harry whined a pleading look on his face.

"The last three days, Master Potter", the house-elf corrected, while putting down a tray of food, "And Master Malfoy ordered that Master Harry mustn't leave the room until he have fully recovered."

"But...", he began to argue again, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"May I come in?", Lucius Malfoy inquired and entered after the house-elf opened the door, "How do you feel?"

"I'd feel...", Harry started, but then thought that Mr. Malfoy had been rather nice to him, had saved him from his uncle and probably wouldn't take kindly to such childish behaviour, "Sorry. I feel better, a bit dizzy maybe, but nothing I can't handle. And **nothing** that requires one more of those awful potions."

Lucius' lips lifted a bit on the edges: "I heard so much. Now, would you want to make a tour through the manor and perhaps a short trip to the park?"

Harry nodded and lifted himself carefully out of the huge four-poster and allowed Malfoy to help him into a black coat with green edges and a warming spell on it, before he slipped on his old sneakers.

Malfoy Manor was huge, most of the ceilings were so high you couldn't even make them out and none of the rooms was smaller than the Dursleys' kitchen and living room put together. There were whole rooms for one sole purpose like relaxing, reading, studying, sleeping, eating, meditation, calming down, healing, bathing, negotiating, working or dancing, which Harry thought was rather unpractical, since the single rooms were seldomly near each other. He would have imagined Malfoy Manor to be either held in dark colours or to be decorated in every way possible, but neither was the case. Most of the rooms they passed on the way to the garden, or park as the Death Eater had called it, looked expensive, impersonal and cold. Harry scowled, it appeared so empty, as if the inhabitants were long gone and only the magic kept it from rotting.

Harry furrowed his brow: "Where do you live, Mr. Malfoy?", he asked quietly as they crossed a living room, illuminated by an ancient chandelier.

Lucius had to mask his confusion: "Why, here of course. This is my home!"

"It doesn't look like a home to me", explained Harry tentatively and made a vague gesture.

"What would you know about a home, Mr. Potter?", Malfoy said defensively, but immediately regretted it as the boy next to him flinched and then said in a small voice: "You're right, I apologise for my manners, maybe it would be better if we made this tour on another day..."

"No, I shouldn't have said it", the Death Eater apologised truthfully, disregarding the Malfoy family rule that clearly stated that Malfoys never apologise, "It was uncalled for."

"It's all right", Harry accepted and smiled a little, "I really would like to see the garden, though!"

Malfoy returned the smile and led him through the foyer to the garden or park, for it really deserved that title, to a white bench near a small river that glided merrily over stones and rocks and down a waterfall.

"I guess, this is more to your liking, isn't it?", the elder Malfoy smirked as he seated himself on the bench, watching in fascination and amusement how the fresh air loosened Harry's tense face into an almost happy smile.

"It's so peaceful", Harry answered, sighing and took a seat next to him, "And it's alive... I know you're dying to asked me a few questions, so go on!"

The Death Eater briefly wondered how he knew, but then his curiosity won: "May I asked since when your uncle treated you like this? And why?"

"I believe you already did, didn't you?", he had dreaded these questions, but he wasn't going to show it, "They were like this as long as I can remember, though it got worse this year, because my relatives didn't take kindly to be threatened by a few of the Order members at King's Cross. As to why: They hate magic in general and as I happen to be a wizard they transfer their hatred onto me. I think they're kind of like you- only the other way round!"

If Malfoys could gape, he would have stared at him in complete and utter bewilderment with his mouth wide open. But Malfoys couldn't gape, it just wasn't in their genes, and so he had to be content with staring at Harry in complete and utter bewilderment with his mouth set in a firm line. How dare he insult him? In his own house nonetheless? Had he really compared him to that violent and disgusting Muggle (not to mention that he had also been incredibly ugly and no-one in their right mind could contend that Malfoys were anywhere near ugly)?

"I didn't mean it like this", the boy interrupted his thoughts, "But you hate Muggles, right? You contempt them. That's what my relatives do, but they also fear me and so they tried to control me as long as they could and when they realised that they were fighting a losing battle, they tried to make me fear them, so that I would never dare to hex them..."

Lucius was once again astonished, but was at least able to articulate a reply: "I would never hurt a child!"

"I know, Mr. Malfoy", was the soft answer.

"Did they succeed?", Malfoy inquired quietly, "Are you scared of them?"

He grinned a little and Malfoy wasn't sure if he was making fun of him or tried to lessen the mood: "Not when I'm awake."

Harry's smile dimmed as he didn't reply and shot him instead a worried and inquiring look: "Have you told anyone about what they did to you? Surely, Dumbledore..."

"I tried to tell him!", his voice was suddenly furious, "I wrote him a letter two years ago, telling him, that they starved me and locked me in the cupboard under the stairs... Guess what he said? I shouldn't be so spoiled, because being the boy-who-lived didn't entitle me to be treated specially in the Muggle World and I should stop bothering him about such nonsense and making up lies about my hard-working family, who were so kind to take me in... He told me that the Dursleys had his every support in what they did and if he ever heard of me telling someone that they abused me, he would look to Sirius being arrested as it surely was his bad influence on me that made me such an attention-seeking and self-centred person. So no, I didn't tell anyone and I advice you to keep your mouth shut about this or you'll really, really regret it, Mr. Malfoy!"

"I won't say a word until you gave your permission", swore the man, "And I apologise for pestering you and assuming I understood. I didn't and I'm not sure if I ever will, but I want to try and if you ever need someone to scare these Muggles to death, I'll be glad to be of help!"

The still slightly pale-looking boy beamed: "Thanks, Mr. Malfoy."

"It's Lucius", offered the Death Eater, "We probably should head back in. Dinner will be ready soon."

They walked back in silence and Harry savoured the peaceful atmosphere in the park. The relatively narrow ways were illuminated by small green lights, which reflected on the water and there were little noises all around them in the bushes and trees, which Harry suspected Malfoy - Lucius - didn't even hear. But to him it proved that there actually was life in Malfoy Manor and this fact calmed him more effectively than any soothing words could have done. He wasn't relieved, really - How could he be relieved if he still was to be married in less than a month? - no, he was grateful that someone had cared enough to ask those questions, that someone tried to understand and that he didn't do a show on pitying him, like Mrs. Weasley or even Ron and Hermione would have. Harry could feel his pity, yes, but he also felt that he did his best to hide it and act normally around him, successfully thanks to his Slytherin traits. Sirius would've told him not to trust a Slytherin and least of all a Malfoy- he smiled softly when the image of his godfather came to his mind. But he hadn't lied when he told the Malfoy patriarch that he knew he wouldn't hurt a child. Not on purpose that is. He loved his son and his wife and his cold exterior was merely to guarantee his social status. And so he trusted him not to tell his secrets.

"Why doesn't Malfoy Manor look like a home to you?", Lucius interrupted the silence and his voice echoed along the dark hallway in front of them.

"Well, it doesn't feel... homey", Harry tried to explain, "More like a museum or a big shopping centre after curfew. It's beautiful and all, but it isn't... breathing. For example, Hogwarts: When you walk around in the middle of the night, even in the vacation, you feel surrounded by magic and life and your own heart beat tells you that there's still someone and you almost expect to see another person waiting beyond the next corner and whether that be good or bad, it gives you that urge to look if you were right or not... Malfoy Manor feels sterile, like you're the only person left and you don't want to look for anyone else, because you almost know that you won't find anybody and you want to save yourself the disappointment... You're always close to hyperventilating, because you sense that the air is, well, only air, and you think that isn't enough for breathing properly... But that's only my opinion."

Lucius hummed but didn't comment otherwise, which he was grateful for and they passed the way to the dining room once again in silence.

The food was spacious and most of it delicious, though Harry refused anything that only even remotely looked like blood, vomit or chalk. There wasn't much that fell in that category, but a boy has got principles, right?

"Can I asked you something?", Harry said and shot a look across the table to where Lucius sat.

"I'd would seem only fair, seeing as I interrogated you all afternoon", answered Lucius and Harry was surprised to hear a small chuckle in his voice.

"Why?", the short word appeared to throw him out of his normal composure quite quickly, and although he was sure that he knew exactly what the young wizard was referring to, he acted as if he was oblivious to that: "Why? There're many whys I could answer, aren't there? But let me guess: Why my house is so 'dead' as you put it? Because it has been for generations of Malfoys and I never really realised what it felt like, because I was used to it since my childhood, and I never truly cared either. Why I invited you to my house? Because you looked lost in that infirmary bed, and even though I don't show it very often, I actually have a heart and for once I listened to it. Why I asked you all those questions? Because I don't like to be the one not knowing what is going on and I was curios. Why I agreed to not inform anyone of that 'incident'? Because I don't plan to make the mistake to turn you into my enemy. But I know, that's not what you wanted to know, am I correct?"- Harry nodded curtly- "What does the Dark Lord have in mind with the contract and what will he gain by it? That's a good question, indeed, and I can only give you the answer that is the most possible in my opinion, for I'm neither the Dark Lord nor have I insight in his mind. The war hasn't been very successful on either part and though Dumbledore probably argues that the Dark side enjoys seeing death and destruction, not even Death Eaters like to see their children get hurt and their friends get killed. The Dark Lord on the other hand can't win a war with less and less followers and although he wants to take over England and get rid of his opponents, I'm pretty sure that he desires more than a life- and peopleless piece of land. So that left him with the only option to somehow turn his enemies into supporters, and his supporters into honourable members of the Wizarding society, so that he would gain more... operating space."

"He couldn't just offer an ordinary contract, which wouldn't involve me having to marry him, could he?", Harry sighed, listlessly pushing some oft the rice on his plate from the left to the right side and back and mixing it with curry sauce and pine-apple.

"No", the Death Eater answered in a voice somewhere between amusement and compassion, "Doing so, would have worsened the situation, seeing as no-one willingly trusts a Death Eater, even though he apparently is on the same side, and not even the whole gold of Gringotts could make anyone see a former Dark Lord as the good guy. Now, to accomplish that, the Dark Lord needs you, because surely the Wizarding World can't mistrust their Saviour and therefor it can't mistrust the Saviour's husband either. If you're able to have faith in him it's the logical conclusion that he is trustworthy and seeing as the Death Eaters can't be worse than the Dark Lord himself, we'll be more than trustworthy as well and they'll welcome us with open arms..."

"You're little plan has only one mayor flaw: The Wizarding World doesn't see me as their little hero and idol. Far from it, they're keen to describe me as a attention-seeking psycho-kid with a hero-complex, who lost his marbles a long time ago and is now most likely a.) mental, b.) dangerous or c.) a combination of a.) and b.). So, I fear your fantasies won't come true", retorted Harry.

"Well, that's at least partly true so we have one other goal: If you can't improve your situation, it's always commendable to weaken your enemies position", Lucius explained with a small smirk gracing his lips.

"Dumbledore", concluded Harry, "He looses me, his little weapon, and the public will hate him for giving up on the boy-who-lived and bargaining me of to the Dark side."

The older Malfoy nodded approvingly and snapped his fingers for the house-elves to take the dishes away: "That's the general idea, yes. Now, I suggest you head back to bed for you're not fully recovered and Severus wanted to come by tomorrow, and you most likely will need all your energy to either hide from him or win a shouting and insulting match against him as neither of you seems to be very fond of the other."

"Snape is coming?", the frail-looking boy asked incredulously, after a short nod, he continued, much to the man's surprise: "You wouldn't have a Pensieve, I could borrow, by any chance?"

The Death Eater seemed to be considering whether he should be indignant that he seemed to assume the Malfoys wouldn't own a Pensieve or astonished about the sudden turn their conversation had taken, so while still considering, he nodded once again (where was that stupid Malfoy eloquence when you needed it, anyway?) and once again called for a house-elf to fetch the required item: "Here you go!", _well, that was a complete sentence, albeit a short one, well done, Lucius, next time we'll try something with more than three words, okay_, he congratulated himself as he handed him the little dark bowl with strange signs and runes on the outside, "May I ask, why you would need it?", _good one, and it actually had some substance in it._

"To store some memory in it, of course", he sent him a cheeky grin, "Good night, Lucius", and with that said, he retired to his room, which he found, after only one wrong corridor taken (he asked one of the portraits).

**What do you think? Tell me! Tell me! Tell me! I'm addicted to reviews!**


	5. Memories

**Disclaimer: I don't owe the Harry Potter characters and I don't make money with this.**

**Author's Note: Okay, this is IMPORTANT so please read it. This chapter contains RAPE, not very graphic, but rape nonetheless, please don't read if you're not of age or just don't like to read such things. The rape is described in the FIRST MEMORY and I marked it, so just skip that paragraph, okay? I think you should understand the chapter without reading it, but if you don't I will gladly explain it to you.**

**emphasis**

_thoughts/ letters/ memories_

"speech"

/Parseltongue/

**5. MEMORIES**

Snape's voice was a rather unpleasant way to wake someone up who was still feeling very sleepy due to a potion, said Snape had most likely brewed himself, which was the reason why it tasted so disgustingly burnt, decided Harry very early the next morning, when the Potion's Master knocked- more like hammered- against his bedroom door: "Open the door, at once, or I'll blast it open!"

Apparently five seconds were demanding too much of Snape's patience, because moments later you could hear a few muttered words followed by a loud 'boom' and a no longer intact door.

"First you pester me at school, make me save your hide over and over again, suspect me to be evil, try to convince Dumbledore of it, endanger my position with the Dark Lord, intrude my privacy and make me go looking for your stupid mutt and now you invade my vacation, my Potter-free time, you steal my best friend and my room and...", ranted the Potion's Master his face getting paler and angrier with every word.

The boy ignored him and walked to the desk, where he had put the pensieve and a letter the night before, carefully took both of them and padded to the still shouting Potion's Master.

When Snape stopped, probably because he had a desperate need of air, he said calmly: "Are you quite finished or would you like to blame me for when you tripped over someone's foot in your first year and landed with your face down in a plate of roast-beef?"

As it seemed Snape had still quite a lot to tell him, so he tuned him out once again.

"What do you have to say to your defence?", Harry was rather astonished that Snape's speech ended after only ten minutes and that he wasn't stomping his feet.

"Nothing", answered Harry and, pressing the two objects each in one of his hands, closed the door, which had been magically repaired about two minutes ago, in front of his face.

Taking a deep breath, he ventured over to the attached bathroom to brush his teeth and try to convince his hair into a more tamed fashion.

Snape stood dumbstruck outside Potter's bedroom- his bedroom, he corrected himself and he felt the anger once again rising. He looked down at his hands. A pensieve? Did he want to make fun of him again? But no, there was a silver, swirling substance in it, he wouldn't be so stupid to lose such a nice memory, now would he? He fingered the sheet of paper in his other hand, opening it and coming face to face with his own name:

_Dear Professor Snape,_

_I know it's not very likely that you really will read this letter, so I'll keep it as short as possible. The reason I'm writing you is that I wanted to apologise. First of all for my first year when I_ _suspected you were out to kill me and for my fourth year when I had the same assumption. I didn't deserve that you all the time did exactly the opposite of what I thought you would: saving and protecting me and endangering yourself along the way; I guess a 'thank you' is in order. My second sorry goes for last year when I intruded your privacy. I shouldn't have done it and I'm not really sure what I expected to see, maybe an explanation to my dreams or to the trust Dumbledore puts in you. Surely not my father and his friends bullying you and that's the last thing I want to apologise for. Even though this won't mean anything to you, I was really angry with my father, Sirius and Remus and for a while I hated them, but then I realised that they were still teenagers then- which is of course no excuse for what they did- that they had changed quite a lot. Don't you think they suffered enough for what they did? Death, Azkaban, Lycantrophy. Well, I think so, but I can't blame you, if you don't. So, you're probably wondering what the pensieve is for. It's easy really, I thought I'd offer you something- an eye for an eye, as the Muggle saying goes- I have seen one of your worst memories, so I let you see one of mine. And don't worry it's not something with Voldemort murdering someone. It's your decision if you want to go in there or not, just give it back to me when you're done._

_Once again, I'm sorry_

_Sincerely Harry Potter_

There was a almost tentative knock on the door, _seems like Snape got his composure back_, Harry thought with a flicker of amusement.

"I want you to come with me!", he demanded as soon as he faced the small boy in front of him, looking down his hooked nose.

The Gryffindor gulped, but nodded and motioned him to come in and close the door. _Deep breathes_, he commanded himself, _inhale, exhale, you can do this!_

"Are you finally ready?", Snape, who had watched him closely, inquired in a mocking tone.

"Let's go!", his voice sounded frightened at least to himself and reminded him of a little child, hiding under a table from a thunderstorm.

They stepped forward to the pensieve that innocently stood on the desk, its contents turning and swirling in an methodical, but unrecognisable pattern. Snape took hold of the thin arm beside him and touched the surface of the liquid memory.

**BEGINNING OF FIRST MEMORY**

_Darkness. Wetness. Raindrops falling silently and hitting the ground with little sound. A narrow ally guarded by shabby looking houses and overflowing trash cans. And a sole, small figure of a boy walking as if in deep thought, fists clenched in the pockets of his too large trousers. The boy didn't seem to mind the rain or his surroundings or the fact that his trousers were too long and soaked in the water. He looked around nine or probably ten, but it was hard_ _to tell as the clothes hid his frame and the darkness his face._

_The older version of the boy-who-lived shivered beside him and Snape watched in horrid fascination as a gaunt looking figure appeared seemingly out of nowhere._

_"So alone, boy?", the figure spoke in a husky voice, swaying slightly, "You can come with me... have some fun..."_

_He was more on the small side, with dark brown hair or maybe it had a lighter colour, but was covered with dirt and grease, his nose was red and his eyes bloodshot. He probably was around forty or forty-five, but one couldn't be sure. _

_"No, thank you, Sir", the younger Harry answered politely, quietly attempting to walk around the man._

_The drunk grabbed his arm jerking him towards his body and squeezing his skinny frame: "No need to hurry, baby, we'll have fun, together..."_

_As the boy looked up, Snape could see his face for the first time. His cheeks were tearstained and his green eyes were widened in fear. A choked sob escaped his lips and he struggled to break free from the firm grip on his shoulders. Instead of holding him the man threw him to the ground and with a, for a drunk man surprising, speed he was on top of him, pressing him into the mud. He began muttering incoherent words, Snape didn't understand, as he ripped away the too big clothes and began stroking his small chest and fingering between his wide spread legs, squeezing the still small cock. The younger Harry's eyes were shut tightly and he was biting his lower lip, causing tiny drops of blood to run down his chin._

_"Stop, please, stop!", it was barely more than a whisper, "Don't."_

_The drunk ignored him and continued to fulfil his sick pleasures, moaning loudly as he reached his climax. The blood mixed with the man's cum. Oh, sweet Merlin, so much blood! The Potion's Master looked at the Harry beside him. He had his head lowered and he was sure he was crying, but no sound escaped his lips. His hands were clenched into fists, completing the look of tenseness he gave off. _

**END OF FIRST MEMORY**

Suddenly all went black and they began to spin (or at least Snape thought so) before the world came back into focus.

_"Evening, officer", a fat man to Snape's right said, before focusing on the small figure beside the young woman, "What did you do this time? Telling some stupid nonsense to get us into trouble and bothering the police!"_

_"Now, Mr. Dursley", the police woman answered, brushing her long blonde hair back and laying a comforting hand on the shaking boy's shoulder, "This young man has been through a lot this evening. Perhaps, I can come in and explain what has happened to you and your wife?"_

_"I'm sure that won't be necessary", Harry's uncle assured her in a false sweet voice, a smile plastered on his face, "Will it, Harry? I think it will be better if Harry tells us what happened himself- you know, only the family?"_

_The officer still looked doubtful, but had no time to argue as the male Muggle grabbed his nephew's arm and made him enter the house. The door closed with a small clicking noise._

_"How dare you bring the police to our house, boy?", Uncle Vernon all but shouted._

_He pinched his shoulder._

_"Vernon, darling, are you coming b...", the voice of the tall horse-faced woman faltered, "What is he doing here"- she pointed an accusing finger at the now trembling boy- , "Didn't we tell you to get lost? Marge, doesn't want to see your little ratty face in the next few days... We told you to stay away for at least a couple of hours. You were barely gone one, so out!"_

_"That's not all he did, pet", the large man intervened with a triumphant look in his eyes, "He also brought the police to our house."_

_"What?", shrieked Aunt Petunia, "How dare you? After everything we've done for you! Ungrateful little brat! Oh god, what will the neighbours think? Look, at the clothes we so kindly gave you... And you embarrass us in front of everyone with your... abnormality. And what are you crying about, now?"_

_"I'm sorry, Aunt Petunia", sobbed the boy, "But the officers said, I shouldn't be out after what happened and that they would bring me..."_

_"And what kind of lies did you tell them, boy?", the woman inquired bitingly, obviously ignorant to the bruises and bandages covering the boy and the blood on his torn clothes._

_"I was raped", the boy muttered, hesitantly speaking the word that no child should know the meaning of, but the Potion's Master was sure the Dursleys had understood him._

_"Is that all?", Snape was shocked, "You're making such a fuss just because someone touched you? Spare us with your self-pity, that's the only thing you will ever be good for, anyway. Go to your cupboard, we'll deal with you later, boy."_

_The boy looked up, an unreadable expression in his eyes that seemed to have seen too much for someone so young._

Again the scenery became fuzzy around the edges and they were lifted off their feet, before being carefully deposited beside the spacious bed.

Harry kept his head down, suddenly doubting the genius in his plan to apologise to the Potion' s Master in this particular way. The two memories had brought back even more and even worse memories and though he wanted Snape to understand that he was not his father he didn't want his pity.

"Harry?", _Harry now, is it? Well, let the pity-party begin_, "Do you want to talk about it?"

_That wasn't what I expected_, mused the boy with a mental shrug, _maybe he still hates me_.

"You have questions", it wasn't a question and Harry seated himself on the bed, his knees drawn to his chest.

Snape lowered himself beside him and began to ask: "What happened after the first memory went black? I guess you lost consciousness?"

"Yes, I did", replied the black-haired boy, "When I woke up again, I was in an ambulance- that's a car that Muggle healers use to get faster to their patients- and they brought me to the local hospital. They later told me, that an elderly lady found me and called the police... In the hospital they treated my injuries and the police officer, you saw in the second memory interrogated me. I told her everything after some persuasion on her part and she promised that she would speak to my relatives and explain it to them. She also said that she would do everything to catch the man... They never did."

"How old were you, when this happened?"

"Ten, it was during the summer vacation before I got my Hogwarts letter", the boy-who-lived answered in an even voice.

"Why did you show me the second memory? Sure, it was awful how your relatives treated you, but it was nothing in comparison to...", Snape questioned, but Harry interrupted him, before he could finish his thought: "You don't understand it, do you? You think just because they didn't hit me, it was not that bad. Well, I've news for you: What they did to me was much worse. Something that is worse than rape or murder. Betrayal. Murder can break your body, rape your mind, but betrayal breaks your heart, your soul. They're my family, they're are supposed to take care of me, love me even, but all I've ever got was neglect and hatred. So, if you ask why I showed it to you, the answer is that I thought you would understand, but seemingly I was wrong."

"I never looked at it this way", admitted Snape, "What did they do as a punishment?"

Harry laughed hollowly: "Something to your liking, I guess. They locked me in my cupboard until Marge was sleeping. Then my aunt whipped me with one of her old cooking spoons. When she was exhausted my uncle took over beating the crap out of me and for a chance raping me, all the time telling me how I had it coming a long time. Seemingly, he had only waited for the opportunity to get some payback."

There was a sole tear making its way down his cheek.

Out of an instinct, Snape didn't even know he possessed, he wrapped one arm around the small shoulders, trying to give some comfort.

"So, do you find me disgusting now, hate me or pity me?", the green-eyed boy asked cautiously.

The Potion's Master, sensing that their further relation would depend on his answer, thought carefully about it, before saying: "I feel sorry, but I don't think I pity you for pity would insult what you've gone through and degrade what you've done. I don't hate you anymore, because I now see how prejudiced I was to assume you were just like your father. I'm not disgusted either for that would mean that there was anything to be disgusted about in the first place and the only disgusting ones are your relatives and the rapist. No, I admire you for what you did and how you coped with it: Not telling anyone to protect the ones you love and even the ones you have every right to hate. I admire you because you managed to maintain the hero image around you and saved the Wizarding World from losing their hope. I admire you for pretending to your friends that you were alright and keeping it a secret that you were abused in the worst way possible. I admire you for showing me this even though I never gave you a reason to trust me. I admire you for every time you were willing to give your life for that of another and I admire you for your agreeing to the contract in order to bring people, who did nothing for you, peace, they don't deserve."

The boy in his arms chuckled: "That was quite an impressive speech, Professor Snape!"

"Why, thank you, Mr. Potter", retorted the Potion's Master, "I rather thought so myself."

"So, does this mean you accept my apology?", Harry wanted to know.

"Seeing as this is the best apology I've ever got, yes", agreed the black-haired man, "Though only under the condition that you tell me, when you need my or anybody's help. Deal?"

"Why does everybody think I need their help?", he sounded annoyed.

"Because, my dear Mr. Potter", Lucius Malfoy smirked from the doorway, "You do an excellent job in caring for others, but you fail to care for yourself, so that leaves such honest and fine people like Severus and myself to do this for you."

"Honest and fine?", Harry asked incredulously, freeing himself from Snape's embrace and slung a fluffy white bathrobe around his skinny form, "Isn't that a tad too Hufflepuff to be fitting for you? Don't you think sly, cunning and mean would be more appropriate? Where did you lose your manners, by the way? Isn't it somehow a good trait if you knock before you enter? I always thought so..."

"I think I might have lost them, when your godfather started to call me quote: 'a slimy boot-licking Slytherin'", the blond answered pensively.

"You spoke to Sirius? Where is he?"

"In the Floo", explained the blond, "I believe, he actually asked how you were doing and if he could come visit, before he started throwing insults at me..."

"Oh, please, can he?", begged Harry grasping one of his hands, "I'll make him behave, please?"

"I guess Malfoy Manor is big enough to either avoid your godfather or ban him to an area, where I never go to", Lucius sighed and was rewarded with a hug before the boy hurried out of the room to speak with Sirius.

"So Severus, did my eyes deceive me or was your arm wrapped around the boy's shoulders?", the elder Malfoy inquired with a smirk playing on his lips.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Lucius", Snape said with his usual sneer, however, Lucius being his oldest friend caught a glimpse of amusement in his eyes, "I think we should look after your little guest, before he allies himself with Black and starts destroying your home."

**Review? Pleeeeeeease!**


	6. Visitors

**Disclaimer: Okay, I admit it, I don't owe Harry Potter or do I look like J.K.Rowling?**

**Author's Note: Here's the next chapter, not nearly as dark as the last one, hope you like it. Enjoy!**

**emphasis**

"speech"

_thoughts_

/Parseltongue/

**6. VISITORS**

When Harry entered Lucius' main study (the only one that was connected to the Floo network), he immediately spotted the dark-haired head of his godfather in the fireplace, who seemingly passed the time by blowing ash on the Asian-style carpet in front of him.

"Sirius!", Harry scowled eyeing the mess he had made, "How very mature! Can't you behave for once?"

"It was boring", pouted the head, "I wouldn't have done it, if Malfoy hadn't stormed out of here without so much as a word."

"He wouldn't have left", the boy-who-lived stated, crouching down next to him, "If you hadn't insulted him. You're glad he agreed to letting you come."

"I can come?", Sirius shouted delightedly, "Can I come right now? Remus wanted to meet with some other werewolves and I hate to be alone in this damned house..."

"You may", Lucius drawled with his mask firmly in place and Snape on his heels.

"Great!", exclaimed the Animagus, "I'll pack my things. See you soon!"

And with a 'plop' his head vanished.

"Isn't he a bit too trusting?", asked Snape, "I mean we could hand him over to the Dark Lord in an instant. And I for one, would certainly enjoy it."

"And you would have me as your enemy", remarked the Gryffindor, "Sirius is the main reason why I agreed to this contract. If it wasn't for him,... Well, I'll go get dressed."

He wandered back to his room- or Snape's room- so lost in thought he didn't notice the portrait from the night before wishing him a pleasant day, where he changed into baggy jeans, which of course were much to big, and a red Weasley-sweater. The room really wasn't that bad, but compared to Hogwarts it lacked cosiness and comfort. However, Snape seemed to like it. He chuckled lightly when he remembered his outburst. If someone had told him two days ago that Severus Snape would get all work up over a guest bedroom he would've told them to greet the nurses in St. Mungo's and if someone had told him that Snape would use admiration as a word to describe his regard on him, he would have given up all hopes to cure their mental state. His gaze fell on the pensieve and with a heavy sigh he extracted the two memories to put them back in their right place. Once again the scenes played in front of his closed eyes and it cost all his willpower to hold back the tears. At least now, he had the Potion's Master on his side rather than as an enemy.

An outraged scream brought him out of his reverie and he hurried to save either his godfather or the two Slytherins from each other's attacks, although he doubted the two Slytherins would start a fight and Sirius probably could use a bit deflating of his head.

"Stop it right now", he shouted as soon as he set eyes on the three wizards with their wands drawn and their eyes narrowed in anger.

Three pairs of eyes turned to him: "Now, give me your wands and sit down."

"But..."

"No, Sirius."

"I..."

"Sit, Lucius."

"That's..."

"Severus, now!"

"Fine, now, that we have all calmed down", he shot his godfather a meaningful glance, "I would very much like to know what caused this little incident."

There was an uncomfortable silence, in which both Slytherins glared at the Animagus and he returned the favour whole-heartedly.

"Okaaaay", Harry said a little annoyed, "then you'll all apologise to each other. And no Sirius, I don't care anymore that Lucius and Professor Snape started it, I just want you to get along and if you can't manage that, I'll be gone sooner than you can say 'It wasn't my fault'. So it's your decision."

"I'm sorry I insulted your family, Malfoy", mumbled the Black heir, "And I'm sorry, I called you Snivellus, Snape."

"Thanks, Sirius", his godson said gratefully and padded over to the sofa to sit next to him.

"I apologise for saying you belonged back in Azkaban", Lucius said evenly and was rewarded with a smile.

"Thank you, Lucius."

"I really said nothing I could apologise for", the Potion's Master stated stubbornly, "I only drew my wand in self-defence and I haven't uttered a word since Black stepped through the fire."

"That's one thing you could apologise for, because it is rather rude to not greet someone, when they enter a room", replied Harry, "And don't tell me you never did something to Sirius, because I know you did. I never specified that you had to apologise for today..."

Snape seemed to think about it, before he answered: "I'm sorry that I was so stuck in the past that I refused to listen to what you had to say two years ago in the Shrieking Shack. I should have at least let you show me your part of the story instead of eagerly handing you over to the Dementors."

"Thank you, Professor Snape", the young boy beamed at him.

"Why are you back to calling me 'Professor'", asked Severus curiously, "You didn't seem to have a problem with 'Severus' when you told me to shut up."

Harry blushed: "Well, you see, it was much more intimidating this way!"

Sirius laughed outwardly and even Lucius couldn't hold back a small snigger, while the Potion's Master looked rather perplexed.

"Mr. Potter, I never thought switching between given names and full names would make a difference", Severus retorted sternly after he had regained his composure.

"And why did you just call me Mr. Potter? I do believe you referred to me as 'Harry' only this morning, Professor", asked the boy innocently.

"Well, it is more intimi-..."

Everyone broke out in laughter as the Potion's Master stopped abruptly and gritted his teeth.

"You will call me Severus outside of classes", the black-haired professor demanded dangerously, which was somehow spoilt as all of the other occupants of the room still had huge grins on their faces and a little house-elf chose this exact moment to serve some biscuits and tea.

"Lucius, I wanted to ask you if it was possible for me and Severus to switch rooms, since he appeared to be rather offended this morning to find me in his room", the green-eyed wizard asked and took one of the delicious-looking biscuits, while snuggling closer to his godfather, who promptly put an arm around his shoulder.

"I believe it can be arranged", the blond answered and after a bit of consideration he added, "Perhaps, you would want to reside in the west-wing. It isn't quite as 'sterile', more 'homey' I guess."

"How come?", the black-haired boy inquired interestedly.

"One of my ancestors decorated it after the wishes of one of his best friends who spent a rather large amount of time here", explained Lucius, "I always wondered, why someone wouldn't like one of the other rooms, but it seems you gave me the answer to it. However, it hasn't been used in a while, so I shall send one of the house-elves to clean it up."

"Who was that guy?", Sirius asked eagerly and Harry was pretty sure he wanted to shake hands with whoever was left of the family just for telling a Malfoy that their property wasn't impeccable.

"His stay here during the 18th century was only poorly documented, but it is believed that he was very powerful and gifted", the Malfoy replied.

"Way to go, Malfoy. You just could have told me that you didn't know it", the Animagus remarked disgruntled.

Harry nudged him lightly before turning to the Potion's Master: "Is this okay with you, Severus? You seem to be rather fond of those rooms."

"They have a potion's lab", the dark-haired Death Eater replied matter-of-factly.

"Oh, that explains it", chuckled the boy, "What happened yesterday after we left, by the way? Did Fudge wake up?"

"It was hilarious", Sirius laughed and even Severus seemed to fight his lips from lifting, "Dumbledore was talking with Voldemort about who knows what, when that simpering idiot came barging into the room and demanded to see 'that blasted boy'. Lestrange kindly informed him that you had already left the school. The Minister obviously distrusted the word and judgement of a Death Eater and Azkaban escapee and intended to check it on his own and began to move the beds and even crawled under one or two. He wasn't even sensible enough to use his wand and after his inspection he was a little out of breath."

"He tried to persuade Pomfrey to give him a Strengthening Potion, but she wasn't really impressed with his little show and told him that she only felt responsible for students and the teacher body and he should go to St. Mungo's", continued Severus, "Dumbledore tried to convince her otherwise, but she insisted that she was only paid for dealing with impertinent and stubborn brats and not with conceited, incapable and bumptious ministers. Then she threw all of them out of the infirmary. Oh, yes, she gave me this bag for you."

Severus handed over a brown paper bag, which Harry took with a frown.

"You wouldn't happen to now, what she wants me to do with it?", he asked after a quick peek, which confirmed that there were about ten bottles in there.

"Take them, of course", answered the Potion's Master, "And yes I am to tell you that if you don't take them, she will have your head. She also told me to make sure that you took at least three vials a day and if you don't do so I am to owl her."

"Fussy nurse!", Harry muttered before downing two bottles in quick succession, "Satisfied?"

"Severus may be satisfied with just watching as someone digests his potions, but I on the other hand would be really glad, if you would give me back my wand", Lucius cut his friend's answer short.

"I still have them, haven't I?", the teen mused thoughtfully, "No hexing, okay?"

"You have my word", the Malfoy said gravely and Harry had to elbow his godfather sharply to prevent a second blow-up before being able to hand them their respective wands.

"Where did you say Remus went?", Harry wanted to know from Sirius, but before he had a chance to answer, there was a loud shout from the fireplace: "Oh, thank Merlin, you're here, Sirius, you got me worried. I thought you were out again on some stupid rescue mission of yours..."

"I left you a note", Sirius replied defensively and added as he saw the blank look on the werewolf's face, "On the kitchen table! And I don't do stupid rescue missions!"

There were three nearly identical snorts of disbelief from the three other males and Harry once again had to intervene: "Remus, why don't you come through? I'm sure Lucius wouldn't mind terrible and I know that kneeling in front of the fireplace with your head in the fire isn't very comfortable."

"I would very much like so, if it isn't too much of an inconvenience that my friend comes along", Remus answered, ever the polite one.

"The more the merrier", stated the Potion's Master sarcastically and it still sounded as wrong as Voldemort singing a happy Christmas tune two days before Easter Sunday.

After an affirming nod from the blond Remus' head disappeared just for the whole Remus to step through the fire followed by a young man around twenty or maybe twenty-five at the most. He was rather tall, with dark blue eyes and blond hair with white streaks. His clothes looked a little shabby and his sweat-shirt had only one and a half sleeves.

"This is Damian Lojack", Remus introduced, indicating the young man, "Damian, meet Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy, Sirius Black and Harry Potter."

Damian shook hands with each of them, before sitting in one of the armchairs, his young face crestfallen.

"So, how do you know Lupin?", Lucius asked as soon as everyone had settle down.

"I'm one of his pack", Damian replied, but this answer merely confused the Death Eater.

"Beg your pardon? I don't think I heard you right. Did you just say you were one of his..."

"...pack, yes."

"Pack as in...?", inquired the Potion's Master in his best I'm-a-teacher-and-you-better-answer-me-right-now-or-you'll-serve-detention-for-the-rest-of-your-sorry-life-voice.

"As in a pack of werewolves", his voice sounded tired.

"Would you want a tea or a biscuit, Mr. Lojack", Harry offered, feeling his worry and sadness.

"Werewolves have packs?", Snape frowned dubiously, "That's the first time I ever heard something like this."

"Well, there you have a reason why Remus got the Defence against the Dark Arts job and not you", Harry half joked but there was a edge to his words that said: You better stop now, "So would you want something, Mr. Lojack?"

"Tea would be nice, Mr. Potter, and please call me Damian", the young werewolf answered gratefully.

Harry passed over the tea: "I know it's not my business and you'll most likely tell me so, but I really would want to know why you met with Remus, because I do know for a fact, that you don't meet with other werewolves often, Remus."

Damian paled drastically and his voice was hoarse as he answered: "Yesterday was the full moon and I... I bit someone."

"Why didn't you take the Wolfsbane Potion", Snape asked harshly.

"I couldn't afford it and I don't know anyone who actually can brew it", was the defeated reply.

"We went to the family because we wanted to apologise and help them through this, but it didn't went too well", intervened the older werewolf tiredly, "They were more concerned about themselves and getting a compensation than about the girl."

"How old is she?", asked Harry.

"Eleven, she is going to attend Hogwarts this year" explained the sandy-haired man, "They didn't even let us talk to her, said she was asleep."

"But she wasn't, was she?", inquired the youth, "She heard you talking. She heard when her parents demanded money for their loss and she heard when they called you 'monsters'."

"How do you know?" the young man asked astonished.

"The way Remus told it", Harry shrugged slightly, "Is it a pureblood family?"

Remus nodded slowly: "Their name is Thompson and I think they are the third generation."

"Fifth actually", corrected Lucius, "But I didn't know you cared about blood."

"Do they?", Harry retorted, ignoring his questioning look.

"If the question is, whether they support the Light or the Dark I have to say that they are on the Ministry's side."

"Would you want me to try to convince them to listen to you, Damian?", offered the boy-who-lived, "I can't promise you anything, but maybe if we're lucky, they worship my very being or at least think of me as powerful enough to turn them all into toads with the bat of an eyelash."

"That would be great!", exclaimed the young werewolf, "Would you mind if we went right now? I want to get this over with..."

"I'm coming with you", Remus stated but Sirius protested, "I don't want either of you to go. Yesterday was the full moon and you fainted just four days ago, Harry, I think neither of you is in the condition to deal with ignorant and rude family members of a newly bitten werewolf."

"Sirius, you do know that I wouldn't let anybody hurt Remus, don't you?", Harry said, searching his eyes.

"Yeah."

"And you also know that Remus would do everything to keep me save, right?"

"Yes, but..."

"See, no need to worry", Harry concluded cheerfully and pulled the two werewolves towards the fireplace, "We'll be back soon. Why don't you help Severus with making some potions or Lucius with ordering his house-elves around? See you later!", and with a 'wush' he followed after Remus.

"Don't you dare", the two Slytherins threatened in unison and strutted out of the study, leaving an angry Sirius behind.

**Be a dear and review, please? The more reviews the faster you'll get the next chapter (oh, this almost sounds like blackmail, doesn't it? Oh, well...). But honestly, I love reviews and they motivate me, so... Why don't you press the nice little button and write me something?**


	7. Helping Werewolves

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything. Well, actually I do, I own...okay, let's not digress. I don't own the characters, except the two new werewolves.**

**Author's Note: I apologise in advance: this chapter is really short, I admit it, but hey it comes sooner, that's something, right? right? has to cover under the table. Well, fine you don't have to read it pouts, just wait for the next chappie, no-one's forcing you... **

**Since no-one is going to read it anyway, I'll leave out the sign explanations this time, they're quiet useless really. No emphasis, no thoughts and no Parseltongue in this chapter. Sorry to those who wanted Voldie to make an appearance, but he has work to do (at least that's what he says) and two certain emerald green eyes always steal his concentration (and make him horny, not that he would ever admit it), so be patient.**

**And to those who're still going to read this chapter, enjoy! You others can just go, don't need you- nope! You could review though, since you don't have anything better to do...**

**7. HELPING WEREWOLVES**

Harry hated to travel with Floo Powder, all this spinning and the dust, apart from the landing of course. He always wondered, how Sirius and Remus made it seem so easy to swing out gracefully, hell, he would be glad if he only landed on his feet!

"Thanks, Remus", he muttered, as he lifted him up to his feet again, "Mr. and Mrs. Thompson?"

"Yes, and who are you and what are you doing in our house", barked a wiry man with large hands and a slightly bald head.

"I'm here to speak to you about your daughter", he responded firmly, "And I am Harry Potter."

"Harry Potter?", piped the rather small and chubby woman next to him, "Do you see him, Ed? It really is the boy-who-lived... It's an honour to have you here, Harry- I can call you Harry, can't I?- what can we do for you."

"First, I would like you to speak to me and not about me, as if I was some new sofa. Second, I ask you to not call me Harry, because we just met and I don't think, I will like you too much. Third, you will apologise to the two gentlemen next to me for your impoliteness earlier. Fourth, I want you to show me to your daughter's room and fifth- and that's the most important point, so listen up- you will help your daughter to the best of your abilities and you won't ever treat her like a monster", Harry demanded, staring them down, "And if you were wondering, what would happen, if you didn't do what I ask of you... Let me tell you that there is a very good reason, why some people are afraid of me."

"Ehm,...", the couple was at a loss of words.

"I would show him to your daughter's room", Remus suggested helpfully.

"The second door up the stairs on the left", the man croaked, before his knees gave out under him and he dropped on a pillow, Damian had provided.

"Thank you so much", Harry twittered and went upstairs.

The house was nothing compared to Malfoy Manor and Harry could almost understand, why the family had demanded money. The tapestries were yellowed and he noticed one corner were it began to peel. The steps were worn away and you could guess that many feet had walked and jumped and ran up and down. Everything seemed dilapidated or as if nobody had cared in a long time to furbish it up. The second door had a sign with the name 'Tanea' and a few paintings on it and was firmly shut.

Harry knocked, but didn't get a reply. Sighing he entered. His steps were nearly inaudible, thanks to the many years spent with the Dursleys. But even if he had stomped so loudly, that Hagrid would go green with envy, the girl, who had her head buried in a pillow and was crying, wouldn't have noticed. "Tanea?", he asked gently, sitting down next to the young werewolf on the bed, "I know that isn't easy for you, but this won't help you..."

"You don't know anything...", the blond mop of hair sobbed, "You don't know what it is like to be bitten. He destroyed my whole life. My family hates me and my friends surely won't want to deal with me anymore. My whole life is over. I'm not even human anymore, I'm a monster. I'll be alone."

"No", Harry replied gently, "Your family loves you, but they as well have to get used to you being a werewolf. They're afraid that they won't be able to support you as much as they want to and that you'll suffer, while they can't do anything to ease your pain. Your friends won't desert you, because of this and if they do they don't deserve your friendship anyway and you can make new friends, when you come to Hogwarts. And believe me, in Hogwarts there're so many people with different opinion, who hate each other, that it's quite impossible to be hated by everyone. And if you manage the impossible, you got my promise that I'll still be there for you. You may not realise this, but you also got a new family. I don't know nearly as much as Remus about this, but the loyalty and friendship inside of werewolf packs is legendary and they'll always look after you. Sure, you will transform once a month and I won't tell you that it's half as bad as you make it out to be, because it isn't, but the Wolfsbane Potion is a vast improvement and it will help you to get through. Professor Snape is one of the best current Potion's Masters and I'm certain that I can persuade him to make it for you so that you'll keep a human mind all the time. So you see, you won't be alone. And I won't have you referring to yourself or other werewolves as monsters. We can't undo the bite, that's a fact and you have to accept it or it will eat you from the inside out. Please, I don't expect you to be happy about this, but at least try to come to terms with it and let Damian apologise to you. Please,..."

There was a strained silence in which Tanea finally lifted her head and stopped crying, her eyes going wide as she saw who sat next to her: "You're Harry Potter, you're... were you being honest?"

"Of course", the green-eyed wizard smiled warmly, "How about we go downstairs now and talk with your parents and Damian?"

"Okay", the young werewolf mumbled, hesitantly getting up.

They walked silently down to meet the others who sat stiffly in the living room. Well, the Thompsons and Damian sat stiffly, that is, while Remus was bustling around, making tea and cleaning up the house.

Harry smiled slightly and led Tanea to sit next to her parents opposite the blue-eyed werewolf: "Remus, could you take a seat for a moment?"

He nodded and sat down near the fireplace in a maroon-coloured chair.

"Tanea, I wanted to tell you how sorry I am", the young werewolf began, after Harry had given him a sign to commence, "I can understand that won't make it up to you, but I can't offer you much more. I'm training to become a healer, so I haven't got that much money. However, I should be finished soon and then I will try to compensate you for what I've done. And if you still can stand to see me after this, I'll be glad to help you to get used to this. I'm really sorry all this happened and..."

"It's okay. I accept your apology", replied the brown-eyed girl timidly, "And I would appreciate it, if you could help me to understand what I am. I read a book once, but it wasn't really informative and I would like to be as prepared as possible for the next full moon."

"Damian and I will help you and I have a few books for you to read", agreed Remus, "The next full moon is still a while away and when you come to Hogwarts, there are already precautions so that you won't hurt anyone. We'll both make sure to be there and how I know Harry he'll be there, too."

"Of course, I will", exclaimed Harry, "And I'll make Professor Snape make the potion for all of you, I'm sure he'll be delighted. Mrs. and Mr. Thompson, if you really need money, you can owl me and I'll do something. The same goes for you, Damian. And Tanea, if you ever need someone to talk to, I have two perfectly efficient ears and I'm willing to use them. If there aren't any further questions or requests, Remus and I will take our leave now..."

"I think we'll be fine", said the young healer, "Thank you so much, Mr. Potter, if I can ever do anything for you, don't hesitate to call me."

"Harry, you can call me Harry", responded the boy, "In fact all of you can, I'm sorry about my outburst earlier, Mrs. and Mr. Thompson, I was a little hot tempered."

"I guess you had the right to be", smiled Mrs. Thompson, "Our reaction wasn't the best."

"Thanks for coming, Harry", said the blonde girl quietly, "You helped me a lot and I hope I'll see you soon."

"Not a problem", answered the dark-haired wizard, "Have a nice day, everyone."

With that said, he threw a bit of Floo Powder into the fire and stepped in, stating Malfoy Manor as his destination.

**I already apologised still sits under the table waves with white flag. But you could write me short reviews, couldn't you? Or long reviews to make me feel guilty so that the next chapter will be longer... Either, way, could you stop throwing things at me!**


	8. Jealousy

**Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe is intellectual property of J.K.Rowling**

**Author's Note: I just wanted to state that school sucks. It's like Dumbledore with windows and doors and without lemon drops. Also I wanted to thank all my wonderful reviewers, especially those that didn't shoot hard things at me, because of the last chapter grins wink wink. **

**And if you want me to answer your reviews, which I would really like to do, you should sign your reviews and log in. And if you want to criticise my work or my spelling or anything else, I invite you to do so, but I really think you should have the decency to leave your name then and not just run me down. Okay, I admit it I thought a tapestry was a wallpaper and, yes, I wrote 'were' instead of 'where', but nobody is perfect least of all me an such things happen, and I appreciate constructive criticism and if you don't like this story or my writing style, my advice is easy, don't read this story!**

**Okay, I just had to rant a little, sorry. But this chapter is really long, although there's still no Tom in it. Three chapters, from now, that's final! Hope you can bear with me.**

**emphasis**

_thoughts/ flashbacks_

"speech"

/Parseltongue/

**8. JEALOUSY**

Yes, indeed he hated Floo Powder. Did he mention that before, oh, never mind. This time it was Sirius who helped him up and he could have sworn, the Animagus was glad to have to do something, even though it was picking his godson up from the floor. After looking around this was rather understandable, as the only other occupant of the room was a bored looking house-elf (not really bored, more like annoyed, and if you know a house-elf, you'll know that annoying a house-elf so much, that it actually shows on its face, is rather challenging). So, by the expression on the house-elf's face alone you could've told that Sirius had been very bored, but one look in Sirius' face was more than self-explanatory. He had sank back into the sofa and began twirling his thumbs again, as Harry was sure he had done before he arrived and stared at him in silent reproach. This attitude was completely justified, at least in Sirius' opinion, if you were left in a boring room for two hours without any human company, while your friends were probably in danger of being attacked by frantic family members and your enemies were having fun or had something to do, which didn't consist of annoying house-elves by asking them the time every two minutes. _So he had asked about sixty times_, mused Sirius, _and had got about sixty replies. That was quite a lot._

"Sirius", Harry all but shouted, he was getting worried, "I know you're pissed and I'm sorry it took us so long, but could you please stop ignoring me?"

"Oh, sorry did you say something?", Sirius startled and Remus chuckled quietly: "Have you been enjoying yourself, Paddy?"

"Run", the Animagus growled and the werewolf complied.

That is, until he met forcefully with a certain hook-nosed Potion's Master, who happened to pick that very moment to enter the study.

"While I can understand why you would want to flee from this room and its occupants I must request that you find other ways to escape", Severus snarled as the werewolf tumbled to the floor and was immediately tackled by Sirius.

"Severus", the green-eyed wizard greeted with slight amusement, "What have you been doing and why is it that my godfather was left here alone with nothing to do?"

"I couldn't very well let an ex-Gryffindor ruin my potions", Severus retorted matter-of-factly.

"Oh, yes about that", said Harry, "Could you make two more portions of the Wolfsbane Potion for the next full moon?"

"Of course, seeing as I have nothing better to do and it is one of the easier potions to make, that won't be a problem", the Potion's Master answered sarcastically.

"Please, Severus", begged the boy, "I'd owe you. I could give you lots of reasons to deduce house points next year, or I'll scrub all your cauldrons, or... Please?"

"He is rather convincing don't you think, Severus?", came Lucius' voice from behind the two still entangled Gryffindors on the floor.

"If I were you, which thankfully I'm not, I would give in now, or he'll bug you about this, until you give in eventually", Sirius interjected from the floor.

"Hey, I'm not that bad", pouted the young boy, "And I tried to help you there, Sirius, you could at least pretend to be on my side."

The Animagus looked guiltily at the floor and mumbled something that with a lot of imagination could be interpreted as "sorry".

"So, will you make the potion, Severus?", Harry questioned with pleading eyes.

Severus grumbled something and found himself moments later with his arms full of a certain black-haired wizard: "Thanks, that's great!"

"I have that potion for you from Madam Pomfrey", he said for a lack of anything else to say and hauled out a vial with a crystal-clear liquid.

"Have I ever told you that you're my favourite Potion's Master?", the boy asked cheekily.

"I guessed as much", the Death Eater-turned-spy replied in his usual Slytherin voice, but with a merry gleam in his eyes, "Now, drink!"

"Why do all the potions taste so awful?", Harry said after gulping down the liquid, before abruptly changing the subject, "I want you to teach me how to dance!"

"What?", Remus and Sirius spluttered simultaneously, while Lucius decided on a "Beg your pardon?" and Severus voiced his feelings with a stunned expression.

"Well, you all can dance, can't you? And I want to learn how to dance."

"And why, pray tell, is that so?", inquired Lucius.

"Because I'm to be married in two weeks and as far as I know it's common to dance at weddings", he replied and hung his head a little, before sending them a beaming smile, "And I think it's fun."

"Well, then let's get started", Sirius exclaimed and, offering his arm, added, "Shall we?"

He grinned up at him and Lucius started a rather slow song with a flourish.

Two hours and a swollen toe later (courtesy of Remus, who hadn't been fast enough to side-step his foot) Harry found himself in Lucius Malfoy's arms, as the door burst open and a cheerful voice echoed trough the room: "Honey? Honey? I'm back. It was great you should have...", here Mrs. Malfoy stopped abruptly.

"Hello, Mrs. Malfoy", Harry greeted brightly, trying to fill the sudden silence, "How was your holiday?"

"How... You... you little slut, out of my house", the landlady screamed furiously and the black-haired boy winced and shied away.

"Darling", Lucius interrupted with a worried glance towards the trembling boy, "I think you misinterpreted the situation completely. We..."

"Don't you 'Darling' me, Lucius Malfoy", screeched the blonde witch, "You cheated on me with that... That mudblood. You're disgusting."

"You're ill-informed, Mrs. Malfoy", the fifteen-year-old boy said quietly, "First of all, I'm no mudblood- no, don't interrupt me- you think Lucius cheated on you?- yes, I call him Lucius- don't you think, your husband would be intelligent enough to not do it in the study, where everyone can Floo in? And you may think I'm a slut, but even you can't believe that I would invite my ex-professor, my godfather and my Potion's professor, who by the way can't stand each other to have a little sex-orgy together with your husband and me. So maybe the next time you should consider the situation more thoroughly, before you judge people and insult them. Lucius, if you want me out of your house, I'll be in the garden. Have a pleasant day, Mrs. Malfoy."

He brushed past the blonde woman and nearly collided with the Malfoy heir, but avoided him without looking up: "Hello Draco, I hope you enjoyed Spain", and disappeared down the hallway not waiting for an answer.

"Well done, Narcissa. This time you outdid yourself", Lucius mocked angrily, "This boy is as old as Draco and you think I would commit adultery with him?"

"He is beautiful, you can't deny this...", his wife argued weakly.

"But I already have a beautiful wife, not that I like you very much at the moment", Lucius replied and paced up and down, "Do you really think, I'm so desperate that I can't manage without sex more than a week? I'm neither so perverted nor so suicidal to get involved with that boy."

"Wait, suicidal?", Draco barged in, one eyebrow raised.

"He's the fiancé of the Dark Lord", Severus answered coldly, "And no-one in their right mind would touch something that is **his**."

"That was Harry Potter", said the younger Malfoy, as if explaining something to a particularly small and slow child, "Why should the Dark Lord marry the bloody boy-who-wouldn't-die?"

"Language", both parents admonished absent-mindedly, before they turned their attention to each other again, "And what have you been doing, Lucius, which necessitated the boy in our house, in your arms?"

"I invited him to stay at the manor for a while to have him away from Dumbledore and those pestilent Muggles. And he was in my arms because he lost his balance, while I was trying to teach him how to dance", the blond Death Eater replied smugly.

"Oh,...", started Narcissa, "I think I owe you an apology..."

"You think you owe **your husband** an apology", Sirius interrupted incredulously, what, without his doing and the presence of four other people in the room, would certainly have developed into a very romantic moment, "You insulted my godson, you made him cry and you think you owe **Malfoy** an apology?"

"Sirius", stated the blonde woman like one would say "yes" or "no", "I assumed you were still on the run..."

"Don't you dare threaten me, Narcissa", growled the Animagus, "I know more dirty secrets about you and those people you call family than the Dementors can cope with."

"Stop acting like six-year-olds", the Potion's Master spat impatiently, "Blacks!"

"I agree with Severus", the werewolf intoned and continued hastily when he noticed the betrayed look on Sirius' face, "And I agree with Sirius, but maybe screaming at each other isn't the best way to convince your cousin to apologise to your godson, Sirius."

"Perhaps we should all go find Harry and you can apologise to him, Narcissa", suggested Lucius.

Narcissa on the other hand didn't seem too happy about this new prospect, but refrained from objecting, for she too hadn't missed the command in her husband's voice.

Meanwhile Harry had reached his destination, his eyes still clouded with tears and his cheeks wet.

_"You little slut, you enjoy this, huh? You love the pain, don't you, freak? Beg me, little slut_,...", resounded the slurred voice of his uncle in his head.

He had never begged, never cried in front of him, had never let him see how much it hurt, how humiliated he had felt. The sunrays slowly dried his tears and the grass under his back was soft and smelled like summer. He closed his eyes and crossed his arms behind his head, the raven hair spreading around him.

_"You want this, whore, right? You want my cock in your tight little ass, don't you boy? Tell me,..."_

"No, Uncle Vernon, I didn't want it", he whispered his eyes still closed.

/Who's that Uncle Vernon fellow, a voice hissed next to him and something sidled over his belly.

/Someone I don't want to see ever again,he replied softly and spotted a green and brown garden snake through half-closed emerald eyes/Do you live here in the garden/

/Yes, since I was a little hatchling. Now I have them of my own, answered the snake/My name's Scira. And what's your name, Snake Speaker./

/Harry, he introduced himself/How are your children/

/Always hungry, the snake made an amused hissing sound/However, it's not as easy as it once was to bring them food. I found three mice today. That's great, one would think, but they're already dead and smell like poison. No good food for hatchlings, Scira complained and coiled up on his stomach/So I'm gonna have a short rest. You don't mind me, do you? The sun is warming me up so nicely right now.../

/Not at all, the boy smiled and shut his eyes again, the snake quietly snoring and its body raising and falling in accord with his breathing.

That's the picture the party from earlier came across as they hurried through the park, not sparing the beauty of the well-kept lawns and perfectly-clipped hedges a second thought. Now, Sirius was certainly a loving, caring and rather intelligent godfather, but he never was one for patience and keeping things cool, let alone analysing things before acting, when one of his loved ones was apparently in danger. And to him a snake on his godson's stomach could definitely pose a threat.

Remus on the other hand had more of the later qualities and thanks to his werewolf senses he could perceive that neither Harry nor the serpent felt in imminent danger, so he held Sirius back, who was all but on the way to rescue his godson, and instead spoke softly to the boy on the ground so as not to startle him: "Harry? Do you know that there's a snake on your stomach?"

"Yes, her name is Scira and she's having a break", the black-haired boy answered, but kept his eyes closed, "What did you decide, Lucius?"

Before the addressed could answer, Sirius barged in: "Harry? I'll count to three and when I speak the spell you roll to your left. Okay?"

"Gee, Sirius! It's a snake, I'm a Parselmouth remember? She won't harm me", Harry finally opened his eyes, "You worry too much."

/What's all this noise about, Scira hissed sleepily/I wanted to sleep, you know/

/I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up, apologised Harry/Some of my friends came by and they were a little worried about me./

/Oh, it's okay, little Snake Speaker, the serpent forgave him readily/I probably should get more food for my hatchlings, anyway./

/I'll speak with Lucius so that he doesn't poison the mice anymore, Harry promised and watched Scira disappear between to bushes.

/Thank you, little Snake Speaker. And watch out for you! You should eat more mice, too./

Harry's chuckling was interrupted once again by Sirius: "You're a Parselmouth."

Huge emerald eyes locked fearfully at the Animagus: "You don't hate me now, do you? Please, don't hate me..."

Sirius was shocked and kneeled down beside his godson: "I could never hate you, Harry", he whispered in his ear putting an arm around his shaking shoulders, "Least of all because of such a trivial reason. You worry too much!"

Harry punched him playfully on the shoulder.

"Mr. Potter", said Mrs. Malfoy after a prompting glance of her husband, "I now see the errors of my accusations and I apologise for my behaviour earlier. I hope you can accept this."

"Of course, Mrs. Malfoy", replied the boy, "I guess it may have looked kind of suspicious, but you must understand that Lucius merely tried to teach me how to dance along with Sirius, Remus and Severus. Not that either of them was very successful, I think I'm a hopeless case..."

"Oh, you poor thing, are you telling me that those four attempted to teach you? No wonder it didn't work... How were you supposed to dance correctly, if none of them can?", Narcissa asked rhetorically, "If you still want to learn it, I'm sure I can be of assistance. I'll just need to freshen up and maybe we should have lunch. How does that sound?"

"Wonderful, Mrs. Malfoy", said the green-eyed wizard.

"Well, then it's settled", the landlady concluded and turned on her heels to go back, "Oh, and Harry? Call me Narcissa!"

Harry however laid back down and closed his eyes once more: "I'm going to stay out here a little, if it's alright with you."

"Yes, of course, I'll send a house-elf to fetch you when lunch is prepared, shall I?", offered Lucius.

"That'd be nice", accepted the wizard, "And could you stop poisoning the mice? Scira was complaining."

"Ehm, sure", the elder Malfoy answered a bit hesitantly and also headed back inside.

"You know, there's no need for watching over me", Harry teased lightly, as he still felt three pairs of eyes on him.

"Right", Sirius said, pulling himself together, "Do nothing I wouldn't do... On second thought, I think it would be better, if you only did things, I wouldn't do..."

The chuckling of his godson followed Remus and him as they went away and disappeared behind a two-metres-high hedge.

The young Malfoy heir was unsure of what to do, should he stay or should he leave? The Gryffindor hadn't clearly dismissed him (the thought was laughable really- as if this boy could dismiss him in his own house) and it wasn't as if he had anything better to do.

"Why are you staring at me? Am I that fascinating?", Harry interrupted his thoughts and Draco wondered briefly how he knew that he indeed had been staring, although he hadn't opened his eyes.

"As a matter of fact you are, shall I tell you why?", he asked and the smaller boy nodded his head slightly, "There're several reasons: You somehow managed to survive the killing course", Harry jerked his head aversely, "You defeated the Dark Lord, which on its own is no mean feat, but now you also managed to become engaged with said Dark Lord. And you have as far as I know the best marks in our year. But shall I tell you what is the most fascinating thing about you?"

"That I made Severus and my godfather act civilly around each other?", guessed the boy-who-lived.

"No, although I must admit that's also remarkable, but the most fascinating thing is that my father actually cares about you", the blond answered, sitting down.

There was a long silence, before the black-haired wizard answered: "I'm sorry", he finally whispered and Draco had to strain to catch the words, "I didn't mean to..."

"Hey", said the Slytherin, while wondering why his statement caused the black-haired wizard so much issues, "This was meant as a compliment it wasn't my intention to upset you. I merely wanted to state that if my father likes you, you're certainly worth to get to know better."

"Oh, sorry."

"Stop apologising! You did nothing wrong... except perhaps choose absolutely horrible clothes. Your parents must have left you a fortune and you dress in rags, really it's a bit disappointing", Draco bantered and picked in mock disgust on the too big jeans.

"Well, then we should remedy that fact, now shouldn't we?", Harry joked, jumping to his feet, "Would you want to accompany me on a shopping trip, Draco?"

"Since when do you call me Draco?", the Malfoy heir asked with carefully hidden confusion.

"Since there're two other persons and at least fifty portraits with the name 'Malfoy' around and I figured it could be a little confusing", Harry said and pulled the unresisting blond up to his feet, "Now, let's go. I have to ask my godfather first, but I guess it'll be alright. Come on, why are you so slow?"

Draco followed the Gryffindor a bit reluctantly, while muttering something about "mood swings", but was rather pleased with himself, because for one the boy really needed some new clothes and he wasn't exactly averse to shopping and it gave him some strange glee to see the boy radiating with joy and excitement (it even felt better than to make him so angry that all the blood drained from his face and his lips, his hands clenched into fists, itching to reach for his wand or to just punch him in the face- of course, making the boy-who-lived lose control was also quite dangerous...).

Draco was just entering the house, when he heard a tumbling of what suspiciously sounded like two bodies and one of his mother's vases filled with silk flowers. So Draco wasn't really surprised, as he walked around the corner and encountered two black-haired persons on the floor, one being Sirius Black and the other half-hidden by the Animagus' body Harry Potter. He was however slightly astonished to find all of the other adults also staring at the two on the floor from the opposite of the room.

"Sirius", the green-eyed boy panted and tried to push his godfather away, "You're heavy, get off!"

"Oh, sorry", Sirius muttered, jumping up and held out a hand to help him get up, "I didn't mean to crush you."

"That's really reassuring", Harry said sarcastically, but with a small smile on his lips, "Now, would you fix the flowers, please?"

"And why were you running like some maniac mass murder was on your heels", Sirius inquired, while resetting the vase.

"Ha, ha, really funny, because I need new clothes!", answered the boy.

Lucius snorted: "Stating the obvious... Who made you realise this?"

"Your beloved son, Lucius", supplied Harry, "And now we're going shopping, aren't we, Draco?"

"Shopping?", Narcissa piped up, "May I join you?"

"That'd be great, I think I could use some female advice", smiled the black-haired boy.

"And what is with us? I thought you wanted to learn how to dance", Sirius said and stuffed the last flower into the vase.

"But right now I don't think I could remember any of the steps not to mention actually perform them", explained the boy-who-lived.

"So, I'll come with you!", the Animagus declared, but his godson whispered something in his ear that none of the others could understand and buried his head in his sweat-shirt: "Snuffles, please. It's too dangerous, I don't want you captured or hurt or dead, please, I wouldn't survive that yet another time... I beg you, stay here where you're safe. I'll do anything, just please, don't insist on coming with me... I know you hate to be caged and I'm sorry, but in one week you'll be free..."

"I'm convinced, really, just give me something to do or I'll die of boredom", Sirius begged and gently kissed the mop of silky black hair.

Harry thought for a moment before answering: "Could you do me a favour?", and as his godfather nodded eagerly he continued, "Could you go to the Dursleys and fetch my things?"

"I thought one of my house-elves brought all your things here", Lucius intervened with a slight scowl.

"Wobbly brought me my clothes and the things she could find, but I hide some things under my bed, and she hasn't found them", Harry replied, avoiding eye contact, "If Remus would accompany you and you promise me not to hex them, I would be very grateful."

"I'm sure we can manage that", Remus reassured him, "Is there anything else we can do for you?"

"I've written a letter for Dudley, my cousin, it'd be great if you could give it to him, but only if neither of his parents is around, that's very important", he said after a searching look and handed Sirius an envelope.

"As good as done", Sirius exclaimed and hugged him briefly and rushed off with a joyful "Have fun! Won't kill the Muggles!"

The werewolf turned to follow him, but stopped: "Harry, maybe you should write a letter to Ron and Hermione, they asked about you and want to know what is going on..."

"I'll do that just not know, okay?", he promised, "And now, could you catch up to my godfather before he does something incredible stupid?"

"I'm on my way. I'm on my way", sighed Remus and followed his friend.

"Finally, no more Gryffindors!", Severus suspired in a remarkably jubilant voice.

"Hey, I resent that. And what am I? A cocker spaniel?", protested Harry, "I'm still a Gryffindor, you know, and I plan to keep it that way!"

"That's a pity, then. But I won't give up hope just yet", the Potion's Master answered scathingly, "And now, if you'll excuse me, I will retire to my absolutely Gryffindor-free potions lab and finish a potion for a Gryffindor, who plans to keep it that way."

With that said he rushed of, his robes billowing behind him.

"I'll go after him!", Harry declared and turned to the door, "Is it alright if we go in about an hour?"

"That will be fine", replied Narcissa, "We'll meet you in the foyer."

The dark-haired boy nodded and left the room, noticing that Draco started to ask questions at once. The manor was silent as Harry had come to expect, and his steps, although soft echoed along the corridors. Some of the portraits nodded in greeting and a few even said 'hello' or 'good day', though those were a minority. He picked up his pace, not wanting to be alone in the manor for an extended period of time. Lucius could say what he wanted to say, but to him this castle was creepy. Hopefully his new room would be different. _Maybe it was a Slytherin thing_, he mused, _loving creepy surroundings with no life around them. _

He stopped this thought and knocked on the door when he reached his old room: "Severus, can I come in?"

There was no response and he quietly open the door, only taking a few steps, before halting, his back pressed against the door: "What did I do wrong this time?", he whispered to the turned back of the Potion's Master, who seemingly ignored him.

The black-haired man spun around as he heard the heart-broken voice: "You did nothing wrong."

"Then why are you so angry?", sniffed the boy.

"I'm not...", started the Potion's Master, but as he heard his own angry voice he had to admit that he was indeed angry, "I'm not angry at you. I'm angry at myself."

"Why?"

"Because I treated you so badly over the last few years and you didn't deserve any of it", he confessed, "And you would have every right to hate me but you're too nice for such humble feelings. I thought this was great, that you respected me, but just now I realised how much I destroyed with my behaviour. If I had acted differently, maybe you now would care about me as much as you do for Black. I'm jealous, for Salazar's sake! Because Black has your love and you would sacrifice your own happiness, your own life for his."

"My life, Severus? Of course I would die for him, but that's not the difference between what I feel for him and what I feel for you", explained the green-eyed wizard, "I would die for nearly everyone, but for Sirius I will live!"

Severus looked thoughtful: "Is he the only one?"

"Yes, Severus, he's the only one I'll live for, because I'm his reason for living. He survived Azkaban for me, being on the run, caged in his old house. I owe him for that", he said softly.

"I'm still sorry, though", the Potion's Master sighed, before handing him a tiny bottle with a green liquid, "I finished that potion against the pain in your scar. I was able to block it when he's near you and when he has positive feelings towards you. I still have to work out a way for it to work against his anger or hate."

"Thanks, Severus. And I really do care about you, you know, I more than respect you", Harry said and swallowed the potion.

"Be careful, you may feel a little dizzy for a moment", Severus warned and grabbed his shoulders as the boy swayed on his feet, "You really have a way to make everyone like you, don't you?", he added in dark amusement and steadied him, "Now, go on, and buy some new clothes and potion ingredients. You'll need them the following year."

Without waiting for an answer Severus softly pushed him out of his room and closed the door behind him. He sighed and leaned against the door. Salazar, this boy had everyone wrapped around his finger!

Meanwhile the Malfoy family had a, well you could say, discussion, what to do with their guests, after all it wasn't every day that there were three Gryffindors staying in the manor and it was even less usual that one of the guests happened to be the boy-who-lived. The Malfoys were by no means modest or embarrassed by their richness, in fact they liked to show off a little. Of course this wasn't the way they would put it, for they were far to proud to ever admit that they needed to impress anyone (and to be completely honest it wasn't really necessary) and they would never stoop so low as to make an effort to make someone like them. So they were instead contemplating the way to ensure the well-being of their guests and to preserve their reputation as considerate hosts. But at the moment they couldn't quite agree as to how to achieve this goal, except of course by displaying a foolish act of bravery, though that was out of question since they were Slytherins by heart and Malfoys at that. At least they had already got as far as to decide that they would concentrate their efforts on the boy wonder, since he was the only one they really invited (Snape excluded, but the Potion's Master was content as soon as he was in his lab) and they figured out that his two guardians would be happy, if he was happy. Now all they needed yet was a plan. If they had asked Sirius or Remus or probably even Severus, they would have told them that they could impress him the most by being a happy, loving family (which they were, they just didn't show it in the public), but of course this idea didn't cross any of their minds and so the Malfoys were discussing the problem at hand.

"I already showed him around the house and he was far from impressed", Lucius narrated, contradicting his wife's proposal, "In fact he told me that it felt cold and impersonal. I don't believe this will be the correct approach."

"He seemed rather content in the garden, though", Narcissa mused and Draco nodded his head.

"I had the house-elves set up the west-wing for him to stay in", the patriarch continued, which caused the two others to look up sharply.

"The west-wing hasn't been used in over one hundred years", his wife stated hesitantly, "Do you really think it wise to quarter him there? I assume you still know the reason as to why no-one ever goes in there, Lucius!"

"It was just a little unfortunate incident", Lucius waved the comment aside.

"Uncle Xavier had to stay in St. Mungo's for over a year, because that door choose to slam right into his face and he fell down the stairs!", the young Malfoy heir blurted out and stared at his father incredulously.

"Don't make a great play of it, Draco", reprimanded his father, "No-one in the family really likes him and it was his own fault, anyway."

Narcissa laid a hand on his arm to calm him down: "Darling, of course this is right, but still the fact remains that that door attacked him and I'm almost sure our young Gryffindor doesn't enjoy this sort of happenings. And I think you still remember what there's engraved over the entrance!"

"'Only the purest may pass' yes, Narcissa I know, but I've come to think about it, Honey. Xavier surely has one of the purest bloodlines, but still he couldn't enter. What if this inscription doesn't refer to blood, but to something else?", Lucius answered and looked as his wife questionably.

Draco, neither used nor content with being ignored, butted in: "Well, we'll see whether he can pass this door, but weren't we discussing what else to do to make him feel welcome?"

"First you could stop talking behind my back", the three Malfoys spun around as they heard the cold tone, "I've got enough people doing that already, thank you very much."

"Harry", Lucius said in greeting, "I'm sorry, we talked about you, but we really just wanted to co-ordinate our exertions in order to give you a nice holiday."

"You apologised", Harry noted astoundedly and moved cautiously towards them, as if expecting them to turn into blast-ended screwts at any moment.

"I believe this is an adequate attitude, if you do something wrong", the blond aristocrat replied with a small smirk.

Harry stared at him, speechless.

"Right", he finally said after having pulled himself together, which had taken a rather long time, at least for him, "Can we go, then? I'm really excited, I've never been shopping for clothes, that'll be so great..."

The three Malfoys exchanged amused and slightly bemused looks, before Draco offered his arm to him as his father did to his mother with a polite "Shall we?"

The two male Malfoys led their escorts to the main entrance, where the black limousine waited for them.

**Why don't you press that nice little button? You know you want to...**


	9. Shopping with the Malfoys

**Disclaimer: I have some super important news: J.K.Rowling invented all the Harry Potter characters, I don't know how she did it, because I'm only playing around with her characters and that's not nearly as impressive. That's alos the reason why she made a lot of money, while I don't get a knut out of this.**

**Author's Note: Wow! More than 100 reviews, I never thought I would get this many and in such a short time, too. Well, enjoy the chappie...**

**emphasis**

"speech"

_thoughts_

/Parseltongue/

**9. SHOPPING WITH THE MALFOYS**

Shopping with the Malfoys was completely different than shopping with the Weasley family. Besides the obvious reason that they were only four people instead of at least seven Weasleys plus most likely Hermione and Lee Jordan, they took him to a part of Diagon Alley, he had never been to before. He wasn't really sure how they got there in the first place, but he was pretty sure that they had taken the same entrance behind the Leaky Cauldron. The first major there difference was the weather: While their trip through London the sky had clouded over and although it was still warm and dry, Harry had mentally prepared for a few water-repelling spells. In this part of the street however the sky was as blue and cloudless as... well, as something very blue and cloudless. The shops that lined the alley looked like someone went around here every morning, throwing cleaning hexes left and right, before the shop owners opened up. On top of that they seemed to be greeted or rather saluted by everyone, albeit it was questionable if the Malfoys knew who those people were or had even talked to them.

The shop, they went into, had a large display window with surprisingly Muggle clothes, although it would've been difficult if not impossible to make the Malfoys admit this. The saleswoman was rather short with light-brown hair that was pulled into a pony-tail, and round spectacles upon her nose.

"Mrs. Malfoy, Mr. Malfoy, as always a pleasure", she said, bustling over to them, "And young Mr. Malfoy, too, how can I be of assistance?"

"How often did I tell you to call me Narcissa?", the blonde witch asked mildly irritated.

The other witch smirked playfully: "Ah, but I have to treat all my clients in the same way, haven't I, and I couldn't bring it to myself to call Mrs. Bullstrode Elena,... Now, what brings you here, is something wrong with my last delivery?"

"No, Inka, everything is in perfect order", she gently pushed Harry in front of them, "Mr. Potter, here, needs new clothes."

"Well, that much is obvious", Harry blushed furiously and looked down as the two women started to examine him, "He needs some new pants, preferable something other than jeans,..."

"... and some tee-shirts and shirts, some pullovers...", continued Narcissa.

"...red is definitely not your colour, dear."

The black-haired boy looked at the two males and mouthed "help", but Lucius only smirked and Draco joined in on making comments about what to dress him in. After five minutes or so, in which the boy-who-lived had unavailingly tried to get a say in what he wanted or absolutely refused to wear and had come to realise that shopping with the Malfoys wasn't such a good idea after all, he was pushed into a changing cubicle with more clothes than he had ever had and was strictly ordered to try them on and show them to the four people outside.

To make it short (which Harry really would've loved it to be) the exited the shop after about two hours, while one of the employees was preparing a portkey to take his new clothes to Malfoy Manor.

"I can't remember when I last had so much fun, and I must say this turtleneck really looked great on you", Narcissa chatted happily, "But it took us slightly longer than I anticipated, maybe we should split up, what do you think, darling? And the children would surely like to have some time away from us."

"Mum", Draco cried indignantly and puffed out chest, "I'm hardly a child anymore."

"Yes, yes", his mother replied absent-mindedly, "I still have to go and pay a visit to Isabelle and Raven and you should really accompany me this time, Lucius, I think Raven was a little lost with all the woman talk around him. And the children need to buy their books and potion's ingredients, so I think we can meet to have lunch in about two hours..."

"Fine, if you chose to ignore me, we'll just go", Draco pouted very manly and grabbed the other boy's arm, "See you later."

"Ehm, Draco", he started hesitantly, still being dragged by a fuming blond, "Where are we heading to? And would it be possible to go a little slower and let the blood circulate through my hand, too?"

"What?", Draco stopped abruptly and followed his arm down to see that he was clutching the other boy's wrist, "Oh."

"Are you alright?", Harry asked in return, "You seemed to be really upset. I'm sure your mother didn't mean to ignore you...

To his surprise the Malfoy heir began to laugh softly: "I'm not upset, I just wanted to get away, before they started snogging like there was no tomorrow."

Harry stared at him in disbelief.

"Every time they go 'to visit Isabelle and Raven', that's what it amounts to", explained the blond, "I don't know anyone with those names and Sev once told me a **story**. Since then, I always tried to avoid being around them when they get like this."

Draco laughed even harder as Harry's face obtained a nice shade of red: "Come on, let's buy our books first!"

The Slytherin once again took hold of his arm, though this time more lightly and lead him through small alleyways and illusional walls, till they got back to the Diagon Alley, Harry knew. As soon as they entered that part again, Draco's behaviour changed from cheerful and almost childish to indifferent and cool in the matter of seconds, but he still didn't let go of his arm. Harry's guess was that it had something to do with holding up the Malfoy family reputation.

He must have been spacing out (he seemed to do this an awful lot lately), because he found himself quite suddenly in Flourish & Blotts, the book store, and Draco had went off to find his books. Normally he would have done the same, but the problem was that he didn't know which books to get.

"Draco", he tapped his shoulder, "Draco", more urgently, "Draco, I swear if you don't acknowledge me this very moment, I will hit you with the every book I can get my hands on."

"Blimey", Draco finally turned around, "You would have thought that Mudblood, would have told you about the importance of school books... But no, you insist on shouting in my ear, as if I committed a deadly sin, when I try to find my books. Tell me, Potter, is it too much to ask for, to gather your school supplies all by yourself?"

Harry backed away slightly: "How am I to know which books I should buy?"

"Just fetch the books you'll need for the next year", the blond sighed much calmer, "If you don't have your list with you, you can asked the shop assistant."

"But I don't know which classes I'll be able to take."

"What do you mean? It was all in your OWLs letter. If you're just going to waste my time..."

"I haven't got my OWL results yet", the smaller boy protested weakly.

"Oh", was all Draco said for several minutes, "I didn't mean to snap at you."

"It's alright", Harry forgave him, "But what should I do now?"

"Why don't you just take the books for the courses you want to have?", suggested Draco, "I'm sure you most likely passed all your OWLs and if not, then they'll maybe make an exception, because... because you're the boy-who-lived."

"Probably", he didn't need the Slytherin to elaborate the other reason, why he could without much doubt study whatever he wanted. After all, who would want to piss off Voldemort?

Before he turned away, he once again caught the blond's attention: "Thanks. And Draco? Don't call Hermione a Mudblood, okay? You don't know her and if you think you know her good enough to insult her, I'm sure you can come up with something better, right?"

Draco was stunned and slightly amused, which at least for a Malfoy was a curious combination for usually they were neither of those things. But really, it didn't matter, since he had enough control to keep his indifferent mask in place.

Harry walked along the aisles and started to look for his new books: Defence of the Dark Arts of course, though he doubted very much that Voldemort would be teaching a lot of **defence**. Next came his books in Transfiguration and Charms, followed by Potions and Herbology. Out of curiosity he also picked up a book about healing potions and spells. He also found a book about werewolves, that didn't sound like it would declare them all monsters, so he decided to buy it as a gift for Tanea.

Balancing the books in his arms, he walked up to the cash desk and waited patiently as the young clerk packed his new belongings into a plastic bag, while sneaking glances at his scar. Just as he handed the correct amount of money over, Draco came up behind him with his books in one arm.

"So what courses will you continue this year?", he asked, peering at the covers and ignoring the startled gasp from the clerk.

"Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Defence against the Dark Arts and Ancient Runes", Draco answered, shooting the poor woman behind the counter a look, that clearly stated, she better hurry up and forgo the gaping part, "You?"

"Defence, Potions, Transfiguration, Charms and Herbology", replied Harry, "What is Ancient Runes like? I always wondered if I should have taken it instead of Divination- it really can't be much worse, right?"

"It is pretty interesting, though my favourite subject is still Potions."

"Who would have thought", the black-haired boy chuckled, before they could finally leave Flourish & Blotts and the annoying clerk.

The next stop was the apothecary, where they restored their potion's ingredients and Draco bought a new cauldron, since he was of the opinion that he needed a new one every year, because he couldn't be bothered to clean it out after the last class and the house-elves used far to aggressive washing-up liquid.

When they exited the apothecary, Harry was about to ask, if they could stop at Florean Fortescue's, when he was suddenly whirled around to face his two best friends, Ron and Hermione.

"Damnit, Ron", he hissed evening his breathing, "Did you have to scare me like that."

The red-haired boy looked sheepish for a moment before he became aware of the Malfoy heir next to him: "What is he doing here?"

"He accompanies me on my shopping trip, Ron", he answered sternly, "And no, he didn't hex me or put the Imperius Curse on me or fed me a potion."

"So it was true what the woman in Flourish & Blotts said...", murmured Hermione.

"Harry", Draco whispered in his ear, without the others noticing it, "I'll see you later in the Leaky Cauldron, okay?"

The Gryffindor nodded slightly and Draco disappeared.

"So, how were your holidays so far?", he asked eager to change the subject.

Apparently Hermione's trip to Italy had been interesting, for she did only stop once after they had seated themselves at one of the outside tables of the ice-cream parlour to order a banana split and that only after the waiter had grown impatient after three minutes.

The other two parts of the Golden Trio were oddly quite (oddly only goes for Ron, actually, because Harry never really was much of a speaker). Ron was thinking (it would be mean to say that there's a first time for everything, wouldn't it? Oh well...) and Harry tried to figure out what was bothering his red-haired friend and subconsciously absorbed the information about Hermione's holidays.

"Can I speak to you for second", Ron suddenly cut in, looking at Harry, "In private?"

"Ehm, sure. Hermione, will it be alright, if we leave you alone for a moment?", the green-eyed boy agreed reluctantly.

He wasn't able to hear or even wait for Hermione's response, because Ron grabbed his hand and pulled him around a corner into the backyard of the parlour.

"Look, Ron", Harry started unsurely, as the redhead made no move to start the conversation, "If this is about Hermione, I'm sure we can find a solution. Whatever is bothering you, I think..."

"This isn't about Hermione, Harry", the way Ron said his name it somehow sounded strange, as if he wanted to convey a whole different meaning with it.

"Then why aren't we going back there and you can tell both of us what is wrong?"

Instead of an answer Ron suddenly moved very, very close and pressed his lips on Harry's. His hands grasped his shoulders and he had his eyes closed and pushed him against the stony wall. Harry gasped in surprise and shock and Ron's tongue easily slid into his mouth. He tried to push him away, but Ron obviously misjudged his attempts as groping and moved one of his hands to the forefront his pants.

"Harry?", Hermione's voice.

They all turned to look into her pale face: "How could you do this? Harry!", now she was screaming and the black-haired boy reeled back feeling the anger directed at him, "I told you and you went behind my back! I can't believe you..."

"Hermione", Ron spoke up, in what he seemed to assume to be a soothing tone, "We didn't want you to find out this way, but, well... I and Harry are together now."

"No, Ron!", Harry exclaimed, moving away from the Weasley, "I can't be your boy-friend, even if I wanted to!"

"What now, you decided that not only I'm not good enough to be honoured as your best-friend, but also that after you got Ron, he isn't worth it anymore? Do you think you're so high above us that you don't need us around you anymore?", mocked the bushy-haired witch.

"No, Hermione", he pleaded his eyes begging her to understand, "You are far to good for me. This has nothing to do with even one of you. Please, can we go somewhere quiet and I'll tell you everything, please?"

"What?", Ron kept quiet, while Hermione started shouting again, "Another one of your 'petty little secrets'? What is it this time. Will it give us detention, get us expelled or simply killed? There is no-one around, so tell us, I'm eager to hear some more of your fascinating stories."

"Me too", commented Ron not looking at him.

"Voldemort offered peace and Sirius' freedom in exchange for my hand in marriage", he answered in a rush but clearly, "The wedding is in one weeks."

"You...", Hermione's angry voice faltered, "I'll think about that and consider giving you a second chance. Ron and I'll think about contacting you, don't even play with the thought of coming near us, until then", with that said, she grabbed Ron and stalked away.

Ron seemed too shocked and, at least to Harry, too disgusted to care that Hermione had decided over his head and followed the brown-haired witch without any parting words.

"Harry, Harry, stop. What is wrong? Did Mudblood and Weasel do something to you? I'll kill them, if they did. Harry?", Draco's voice only slowly penetrated his confused mind and his clouded vision had a hard time perceiving who was talking to him and had stopped his running.

"Draco?", he whispered, blinking his emerald eyes, "I want to go home, Draco."

"Alright" the Malfoy heir agreed with a bit reluctance, but since he didn't know what else to do with the crying boy-who-lived in his arms, he quickly said good-bye to his Slytherin friends Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson, whom he had just met a few minutes ago.

"Well, see you later then, Draco", Blaise called after him, also a bit confused, though it didn't show, by not only the strange behaviour, but also by the boy himself, "Think we can meet somewhen in the next week?"

"Sure, send an owl", Draco replied and guided his new charge to the Leaky Cauldron.

The place was crowded as usual, but whether it was that the people parted in front of the blond or whether the Malfoy heir made them part, they arrived at the bar quite fast.

"Would you tell my parents please, that we already left due to an unanticipated situation? And keep these bags for us till they arrive, understood?", Draco asked, once he had the full attention of the bar keeper and had told the drunken wizard next to them to mind his own business, although it was clearly an order and the innkeeper hurried to assure him of his assistance and stored the two book-filled backs under the counter, while the Slytherin didn't bother to wait for an answer.

Instead he opted to throw some Floo Powder into the fireplace in one of the backrooms and, embracing the small shivering body a bit tighter, shouted 'Malfoy Manor' and in a swirl of colours the two youths vanished.

Draco closed his eyes and adjusted the boy in his arms so that he wouldn't bump his elbows against the walls and even prevented him from swallowing ash and when they reached their destination, he somehow managed to keep them both feeted, which Harry wouldn't have been able to even if he had been more concentrated. As it was now he neither cared nor had to worry about it, because Draco had scooped him up (with ease for he was even lighter than he looked at least in the blond's opinion) and carried him to his new rooms. Or at least that was the plan.

Draco wasn't exactly familiar with the west-wing and hadn't gone there since the unfortunate accident of his uncle. This caused that he had to make an abrupt stop mere two meters in front of the closed double doors. Closed and locked that is. Now, to understand Draco's dilemma you have to know at least two things: First, he was still underage and therefor not allowed to perform magic and therefor not able to unlock the door with a spell. And second, that even if he had been entitled to 'Alohomora' the door, it wouldn't have helped him one bit, because this specific door was warded not only by spells done by Lucius Malfoy himself, but also had a key, which was really uncommon since only Draco's rooms had keys for he couldn't do magic as mentioned before. And as the third house-elf he called finally enlightened him that they couldn't get the keys either, because they weren't allowed, he had willy-nilly no other choice than to get it himself. He debated shortly to carry the distraught boy down to the key-room, but eventually decided against it and deposited him in a sitting position near the damned double doors.

"Don't worry, okay? I'll be back soon, Harry", the smaller boy gave no sign that he had understood or even heard him and after one last concerned look he sprinted to get the keys. Of course he didn't really sprint, because as its clearly states in the Malfoy book of conduct, sprinting would be more than unbecoming of a Malfoy, unless there was a fire (which couldn't be extinguished with magic) or the manor was in immediate danger of breaking down (which couldn't be prevented with the use of magic), so he wasn't sprinting but walked very, very fast (so fast in fact that he barely had time to side-step one of the house-elves, carrying a huge stock of fresh bedclothes). So it wasn't really unexpected that the blond Malfoy heir reached the key room in record time and after one minute of frantically searching for the right key was back on his way to the west-wing. On the other hand Draco was more than a little surprised, when he arrived in front of the still closed doors, but had to discover that the Gryffindor was nowhere to be seen.

So while Draco was left there standing before the closed- and still locked- door in righteous confusion, Harry was in his new rooms. Now you'll most likely wonder how he got there? To be completely honest he didn't really know. To be completely honest he didn't really care either. All he knew was that the doors had opened, once Draco had taken off, which he barely registered, and since he just wanted to be alone he considered this a great opportunity to close said doors behind him and shut everyone out.

But back to Draco. When the blond figured out (he was pretty fast, too) that Harry had somehow disappeared, he decided to open the doors. Not because he believed him to in there, but because he was certain, he would find him quickly- once he started to look for him, that is- and it wouldn't do to have to balance him in his arms and unlock the doors at the same time (here you see an excellent example for both Slytherin cunning and Ravenclaw logic). Or at least that was the plan. But the door hadn't been informed of his absolute authority and in its ignorance it thought it a good idea to not let him come near the lock let alone the handle. Instead there was a blinding light and Draco found himself a good ten meters away from the room (and only one meter away from the staircase) with a sore butt. While a sore butt certainly isn't very conducive for a healthy self-esteem (though the Malfoys mostly had a too healthy self-esteem- Draco being no exception- and a few sore butts every now and then wouldn't hurt anything but their pride) the fact that a door in your own home attacked you can make you question your sanity or in the blond's case make you panic (I think I don't have to comment about this being against the Malfoy family rules, because really it's getting boring...).

It was in this state of mind he ran into Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, who had just stepped out of the fireplace, a smug grin on the Animagus' face.

"Hola, young man, what are you doing?", asked Sirius' his grin broadening with every second, "Training for Olympia?" (Yes, Sirius knows about stuff like this, because a.) he's very interested in sports, b.) he has a TV and c.) he learned everything there is about Muggles in his youth to annoy his parents)

Draco gasped. And took a deep, supposedly calming breath. Didn't work. He tried again. No success.

He gasped again and choked out: "I.. I don't know where he is. One moment he was there and then... I searched the whole manor. Even the dungeons, though why he would go there I don't have a clue. The portraits haven't seen him, either. Sev locked and silenced his door. And... You have to help me, he was crying, I don't know what happened", and then he snapped, "What are you standing there doing nothing? We have to find him, now!"

Sirius' smirk vanished faster than you can turn off the TV you're standing in front of with your finger hovering over the button.

"Calm down, the both of you", Remus said, because Sirius was indeed somewhere between shouting angrily and hyperventilating, "Mr. Malfoy, why don't you tell us what happened?"

"I don't know!", Draco all but shouted, "We went to Diagon Alley and encountered Weasel and Mu... Granger and I left them alone. Next time I see him, he's crying and wants to come back here. So we flooed back here and I wanted to bring him to his rooms, but they were locked, so I went to fetch the key and now I can't find him anywhere!"

Miraculously Sirius, too, had calmed down and actually listed to what the blond boy said, and wonder over wonder, now immediately took action. Actions that didn't require anyone to hide under tables or Remus Lupin to hinder those actions.

"Locaris", he murmured, holding his wand loosely between two fingers and watched in relieved fascination, as it spun around and pointed in the direction of the west-wing.

Remus looked at him weirdly, but said nothing about this totally uncharacteristic display of common sense and instead motioned to the door. With the help of Sirius' wand and Draco telling them the shortest way, they finally arrived once more in front of the closed double doors leading to the west-wing.

"Is this all?", Draco spat, once again near a full-blown panic, "I bloody well told you he **was **here, but do you see him anywhere? No! Because he **isn't** here!"

"No, he is behind those doors", Sirius pointed to the massive oak doors, after having glared briefly at the Malfoy heir.

Meanwhile Remus had started to mutter a spell under his breath and slowly there was a light blue-grey glow, spreading from under the door and making its way towards the werewolf's wand: "Indeed, and Harry's not physically hurt, but maybe we should still look after him."

"The doors won't open, until he wants them to open", Lucius Malfoy and his wife appeared from the large black marble staircase, "Not even I can order them to open. The west-wing does, so to say, not really belong to Malfoy Manor, it's still the property for the wizard it had been built for."

"Are you attempting to tell me, that there's no way I can see my godson, who's probably hurting, just because your stupid house won't let me in, Malfoy?", the Animagus snarled and advanced the blond aristocrat, but before he could punch him Snape turned up, slowly clapping his hands: "Wow, we should all celebrate this special day, when Sirius Black actually comprehended what another human being was desperately trying to convey with his words!"

"Severus, I have to tell you, that I am by no means desperate and it surely was to be expected that I succeeded in communicating with Black", Lucius admonished lightly, though there was a smirk playing on his lips.

But the Potion's Master and everyone else had slight difficulty to understand him, because Sirius shouted at the same time (Remus could just barely restrain him from breaking Snape's already hooked nose): "Just because you have no-one to care for and can, therefor not understand what people who are loved usually feel in such a situation, doesn't mean that I'm in the same sad predicament, Sniffelus!"

Have you ever seen an angry, not to say half-deaf and annoyed, werewolf in his human form one day after the full moon? No? Good for you! Well, Sirius wasn't that fortunate (one of the disadvantages of having a werewolf as your boy-friend, not that the Animagus would ever tell him that). So he knew what to do in such a case (that again was an advantage, because as the saying goes: 'Seen one, seen 'em all'- not that he would ever tell him that, he valued all his body-parts intact far too much). Which was apologise (even if you did nothing wrong, which happens a lot), submit, whimper and all in all make yourself seem as small and helpless as possible. So with his unlimited experience on that subject, Sirius did exactly that, while Remus shouted and growled at him for being an insensible, irrational, inconsiderate, irreformable, immature pitiful excuse of a mutt.

The others were... surprised. No that isn't the right word. Well, maybe for Narcissa. Lucius on the other hand thought this was excellent blackmail material. The Potion's Master was fascinated with how the werewolf acted and thought it would be tragically ironic if his school nemesis would die like he had planned him to end his life. Draco was relieved, relieved that he never made his ex-Defence teacher so angry at him and promised to himself that he never would.

To sum it up you can say that everyone was rather happy, when the werewolf took one last deep breath (no, he didn't stop breathing and no, he didn't die, he just finished his ranting) and said in a calm voice: "Maybe we should wait somewhere else until Harry chooses to come out there again? As nice as this manor is, a corridor isn't really comfortable to wait in, is it?"

At these words Narcissa's training of being the perfect hostess kicked in and she quickly ushered them to the biggest dining room (after all, there were five people and it would be highly inappropriate to squash them all in the dining room which could only hold a little more than hundred people), ordered the house-elves to serve dinner and others to set the table.

**You know what to do, right?**


	10. So called Friends

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never was, never will be.**

**Author's Note: Okay, I already should be doing my homework and stuff, but you guys just write too many reviews grins- don't you dare to stop! Anyway, it's story time...**

**10. SO-CALLED FRIENDS**

The next morning Harry walked into the breakfast parlour, which he had found with the help of Wobbly, where everyone was already assembled: "Good morning!", he yawned, went over to his godfather and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Harry", Sirius exclaimed, "We were worried sick over you! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?", the black-haired boy answered confusedly, but with the bad feeling that he was successfully suppressing something important.

Holding him at arms length and checking him for any visible injuries, Sirius replied: "Because Malfoy told us you were in tears after your little shopping trip yesterday and you were hiding in your rooms since then. What happened?"

"That was confidential", he growled at the blond, sitting across from Sirius and Remus, who sat next to his boy-friend, "It was nothing. I'm okay now, Siri."

Sirius looked about ready to protest, but the werewolf laid a hand on his thigh and so he only hmpfed and allowed his godson to take a bite of his croissant, while Remus silently offered him his cup of white coffee.

"You know, it may be a foreign notion to you with you sitting next to the Weasel constantly, but we have enough food so that everyone can have their own croissant and their own coffee", Draco teased lightly and cocked one blond eyebrow.

"Really, is that so, Draco?", he stepped around the long table to where the Malfoy heir sat and leaned over the back of the chair, "But you forgot something..."

Draco meanwhile had a hard time to hide his... arousal. Well, what did you expect? He was a perfectly healthy gay teenage boy and it isn't everyday that you have a gorgeous wizard practically purring in your ear.

"What?", he asked rather breathlessly.

"The fact that I'm too **lazy**", Harry whispered rather seductively and bit into one half of Draco's honey-covered roll, before gracefully sitting down next to the Potion's Master.

"You'll get that back, Potter", the blond boy sneered, while the rest of the table was either laughing (Sirius), hiding laughter (Remus and Narcissa), smirking (Lucius and Severus) or looking more than innocent (Harry).

"I'm looking forward to it", was the green-eyed wizard's reply, "Would you mind if I continue my breakfast, while you come up with a plan?"

"Not at all, you're much too thin, anyway", the Slytherin agreed, smirking slightly as he saw the obvious look of discomfort on Harry's features.

"How comes everyone says that?", he asked exasperatedly, "And don't you dare to say 'because it's true'", he added, glowering at Sirius.

"So, are the new rooms to your liking?", Lucius, who sat at the head of the table and ate something that looked suspiciously like cereals, changed the subject.

"Yes, they're great", he smiled, as he remembered waking up in his new chambers this morning.

They were even more spacious than Severus' guest-room, but instead of the dark colour scheme there, his had mostly a light cream colour with a few darker browns. The first thing he noticed after waking up was the softness of the enormous bed. The covers were maroon (Ron would have hated it) with runes on them and there was only one big pillow in the middle, in which he had previously burrowed his head. However, the bed was not what made him like those rooms so much. No, because the next thing he saw, was a huge window spanning from one side of the room to the other and through it the little river, where he went with Lucius the other day, and the bench and the whole park. It was an amazing sight.

He must have spaced off, because it took a while for him to register Pig, Ron's owl, who had landed in front of him (nearly missing his plate) with a red envelope bound to one leg.

"Morning to you, too, Pig", he greeted the little bird, who chirped happily and leaned into his hand, while he unbound the envelope, "Do you want a piece of my roll? You don't have to wait for an answer, Pig, I'll sent one with Hedwig, okay?"

Pig chirped once again, before he disappeared through the open window, leaving the envelope in his hands. A red smoking envelope... Harry had no time to open the envelope, let alone go somewhere private, before the howler started to shout at him with Hermione's shrill and angry voice:

_"You ungrateful little slut, are you happy now? I mean you have everything now, don't you, Potter? What did he offer you for you? And don't give me that crap about peace and Sirius' freedom, did you really think we bought that? Not everyone is as gullible as you. So what is it? Power? Did he promise you to give us to you as your slaves? That's something you would want, isn't it? Well, forget it, we aren't your friends and we certainly won't be your slaves. Or maybe money? But you don't need him for that, do you? After all you're sleeping with a Malfoy and they certainly pay their whores well. But which Malfoy, huh? Most likely they share, don't they? What does Sirius say to this? But anyway he isn't the brightest, is he, not to see Peter was the traitor. Although, I'm not so sure about that anymore, maybe you would have been better off dead and we would all live in peace. Live, you hear. You got Cedric killed. You didn't like that he was more popular than you, did you? And then you brought You-Know-Who back so that you could once again play hero. Well, bad luck for you the ministry didn't believe you. And why should they? You do know too many Cruciatuses can meddle with your brain, right? Remember the Longbottoms? But of course you knew that_ _before us and didn't tell us! What kind of friend does that, huh? No, the only important person to you is yourself! Always complaining about the Dursleys, because they don't worship you like everyone else does. In my opinion they are much better for you than your mutt of a godfather or his_** _boy-friend_**_. I have to congratulate them sometime for deflating your head at least a little. Did it ever occur to you that Ron and I have problems, too? Real problems, not some hallucination like you! Your parents are lucky they're dead at least they don't have to feel responsible for you! Without us you're nothing..."_

Thankfully Severus regained his composure, before Hermione could start to insult anyone else (namely him) and set the screaming letter on fire. The sudden silence snapped Sirius out of his stupor and in the blink of an eye he was next to his quietly crying godson and took him into his arms.

"Shh, it'll be alright", he tried to comfort him, "You know it's not true what she said. Shh..."

"Maybe it would be better, if you left us alone for a moment", Remus asked the Malfoy family and the Potion's Master, "If that would be possible."

"Of course, Mr. Lupin", answered Narcissa with a concerned but genuine smile, "If you need anything, we'll be in Lucius' study or you can just ask a house-elf", with that she ushered everyone out and closed the door behind them.

In the meantime, Sirius had started to walk around with the distressed boy in his arms, like you would do to make a baby fall asleep, rubbed his back and murmured comforting words, until the heart-wrenching sobs finally subsided to softer ones. When Sirius eventually settled down on a windowsill, Remus sat down behind him and pulled both of them in a tight embrace after conjuring up a blanket, with which he covered the now shivering boy. He too made soothing circles on his back.

"Is he asleep?", Remus asked after a while which they had spent in silence.

"No", it was not Sirius who answered but the boy himself, "You don't", he choked, "You don't hate me, right? Please, don't hate me..."

"Hush, don't ever think that we hate you, hell, don't even think that we don't love you, because we do", Sirius admonished sternly, "Granger had no right to insult you like this and the fact alone that she thinks she does, shows how wrong she is with everything, she said. She was lucky, she had you as her friend. You're an intelligent, beautiful, funny, extraordinary and powerful young man and I want you to believe me!"

"Then why do they hate me?", sobbed the small bundle in his arms.

There were hundred answers to that question, at least ten would make someone believe, they were overreacting and that everything would work out just fine. About twice as many would make someone see that the reason wasn't really important, because there're always some people who hate you. A bit more than thirty would make someone at least feel slightly better and reassure them you really cared about them. The rest would probably make someone cry even harder, because whatever those answers were, they simple were not good enough for that purpose- unless of course your intention was to make someone cry harder. Knowing Sirius as he did, Remus feared he would pick one of the forty bad answers and he sincerely wished he could reply instead, for he was used to handling children of all sorts. Happy children, overactive children, hysterical children, melodramatic children, sad children, hurt children. He was the one good at such stuff. That's the reason he was made prefect, even though some of Sirius' and James' marks were better than his. And that's the reason he was always sent to apologise, if one of their pranks hurt someone unintentionally.

"Maybe you could tell us first what happened yesterday at Diagon Alley, hm?", the Animagus urged gently, "You met Ron and Hermione there, didn't you?"

Harry sobbed once again, but nodded nonetheless and reported what happened the other day, his head buried in Sirius' dark blue robes:"... and then I ran and now they hate me!"

"Shh, listen to me", the Animagus soothed him and Remus brought the blanket back up around his shaking shoulders, "I'll tell you a story about your parents. Okay? I never told you that I had a crush on your mother, have I?", Harry lifted his head a little and stared at this godfather in surprise, "Yes, it was somewhen in fifth year before I got together with Remus. It wasn't really surprising, seeing as James talked non-stop about her and pointed out endearing facts about her. So, when I started to notice these things as well and found myself thinking about her more than is normal I talked to James. At first he was furious and I'm sure if it hadn't been for the Silencing Spells half of the school's population then, would be deaf now", he chuckled lightly with a far-away look in his eyes, before resuming his story- "I told him that I thought it was nothing serious- after all I had many of such crushes- and that I didn't plan to snatch her away from him, for he certainly had the 'older rights'- I'm sure if your mother had heard us, we wouldn't have survived the following weeks with all our limps attached- I asked him instead to shut up about her at least for a while so that I could find another girl to crush on. James of course agreed and didn't talk about her for at least three weeks, until I had a date with some Hufflepuff-girl and declared to him that Lily was in no danger from me any longer. That was when Jamie said that he was glad about it for he really loved your mother, but he was also glad, because our friendship was more important to him. Naturally he didn't say it like this, but it was his way of telling me that if I had really loved Lily and she would have chosen me, he would have accepted that."

"So... what exactly is it that you want to tell me with this?", Harry asked confused.

"Let me first recount another story to you about me and a certain rat. I think it was in fourth year, when that rat had a crush on some girl. This was nothing unusual, seeing as Peter liked a lot of girls. To his dismay the feeling was seldom mutual and most of the girls only tolerated him because he hung out with us. This particular girl also had a crush on her own- me. And really, who can blame her?", Harry gave a short laugh and Remus punched Sirius lightly on the arm, which didn't bother him at all, "Peter of course didn't see a problem in this and just told me to back off, which wasn't difficult, given that I wasn't interested in her- Peter never had good taste. That didn't however make him more attractive or the girl less obsessed with me. So the fateful day came, when she asked me out on a date. I of course told her in the most polite way that she didn't stand a chance and that I wouldn't go out with her. She didn't take it too well and avoided me all together and therefor Peter. Peter blamed me for this, said I had ruined everything and that I was egoistic, something like that. He wouldn't talk to me for weeks, till he got a new crush."

Harry was quiet for a few moments, so Sirius continued: "What I wanted to show you with this is, if Hermione would really love Ron or care for your friendship she would've at least tried to be happy for him and you, like I was for James and he would've been for me, if it had worked out with Lily. She's acting like Peter did and that doesn't speak in her favour. As for Ron if he was in love with you, he would either fight for you or be the best friend, you could wish for. Maybe he'll finally come to terms with it, most likely, I don't think he's mature enough to be really in love, yet, but in my opinion you're better off without them, like we would've been without Peter."

"I still lost my friends, Sirius", his godson answered dully, "And even though it might be better that way, they still despise me and want nothing to do with me. Now, I'll be all alone in Hogwarts."

"Harry, remember what you said to Tanea?", Remus interrupted leaning around Sirius so that he could look into his teary eyes, "In Hogwarts are more people than Ron and Hermione and they have different views on things. I'm sure you'll find new friends!"

"What about for example the Malfoy kid?", suggested Sirius, "I'm not very fond of these pureblood fanatics, but they seem rather nice and didn't you tell me, he offered you his friendship in your first year?"

"You wouldn't be angry with me for befriending a Slytherin?", the back-haired boy inquired astonished.

"No, Harry", Sirius protested, hugging him a bit tighter, "Although I have to admit that I am a bit prejudiced against them, there have to be some good ones in that house, too. And if they're willing to stand up for you against Dumbledore, I'm willing to give them a chance."

"Thanks", Harry said, smiling for the first time, "I'm feeling a lot better, though I'm still sorry for what she said about you two."

"Oh, it's okay, we've both been insulted with far worse", laughed Sirius, "I think the general opinion in Hogwarts was that I got my good marks with either bribery, blackmail or by sleeping with the teacher, but I can assure you I did none of those things."

"Sirius is right"- "Thank you very much!"- "Be quiet, Padfoot, being called the boy-friend of Sirius, isn't too bad..."- "Well, I'm honoured!"- "Being his boy-friend, however, can grate on your nerves", Remus added consistently interrupted by Sirius' enthusiastic interjections.

Harry smiled slightly and freed himself from Sirius' embrace, who was berating the werewolf for "being mean" with such a pouty voice that you could **almost** think he was serious about his complaint. The keyword being 'almost'.

Just as he was about to drop Remus' half finished coffee cup over Sirius' head as a token of his gratitude (he was the son of a Marauder after all), there was a loud knock on the breakfast parlour's doors and they all swivelled around wands at the ready (Sirius tried- unsuccessfully I might add- to shove his godson behind his back).

Draco's silver-blond head appeared in the door, followed by the rest of his body (it would be completely undignified to hide behind doors): "I'm sorry to interrupt your 'family time', but the Dark Lord decided to make an unannounced appearance and well, he'd like to see you."

"Thank you, Draco", said Harry with so much composure that it surprised the young blond, "If you'll give us a minute, we'll be in your father's study soon."

The Slytherin nodded his head and disappeared, shutting the door quietly behind him.

"Harry, you don't have to go, if you don't want to", Remus offered and Sirius nodded enthusiastically, but Harry only smiled disbelievingly, standing in front of the silver-framed, ceiling high mirror, checking his face and making sure, there was no evidence that he had been crying, before leaving the room.

Sirius was on the way to the door as Remus grabbed his arm: "I always wondered why you were made godfather, Paddy, but now I think James and Lily made the best choice."

To his surprise Sirius laughed at his words: "Oh, Moony, I can't believe this was bothering you all this years. Do you want to know why I was made godfather and not you? Lily wanted you of course, but James insisted on me, so they made a deal: Whomever Harry looked at first would get the post. So being the eye-catching, gorgeous Sirius Black, he looked at me. Of course you're not bad looking yourself..."

"I think you should reason your hypothesis some other time", Remus interrupted, before the Animagus could delve into a long explanation about why exactly his good looks were superior to Remus' appearance, "Or do you want to leave your godson with a bunch of Slytherins and their Dark Lord?"

Sirius gave no reply and instead strutted out of the door. Laughing lightly, Remus followed.

**Oh, already done reading? My, that was fast... Okay, what could you do now, I thought it would take you longer and that I'd have a bit more free time sigh... I have absolutely no idea, maybe you do? I have the feeling it has to do with pressing buttons and using your keypad, but I just can't wrap my mind around it...**


	11. Friends, Foes and Family

**Disclaimer: I didn't come up with the whole Harry Potter universe or I certainly wouldn't be writing fanfiction now.**

**Author's Note: #drum rolls# This is the chapter where Voldie finally makes an appearance- on second thought, no he won't I thought about it and decided to write the whole story without him, maybe he'll write on or two letters or maybe a floo call once in a while... You didn't believe me did you? Good. Because Voldie is waiting for you... and two more unexpected visitors also make an appearance...**

**emphasis**

_thoughts_

"speech"

**Oh, and two more annotations: One of my reviewers asked what white coffee is. In my opion it's coffee with a lot of milk and that's how I found it in the dictionary. Another reviewer asked why I called Narcissa a landlady and if she was renting out rooms to someone. The answer is no, I thought and still think that a landlady is like a female landlord, the person who owns a house and the land surrounding it and since she's married to Lucius and most married couples share their fortune, she would be the landlady of Malfoy Manor. Maybe, that's totally wrong but that's how I see it...**

**And now enjoy...**

**11. FRIENDS, FOES AND FAMILY**

When the Dark Lord got out of his luxurious black four-poster bed, he thought this 30th July would be a nice day. Not nice in a particular dark-lordish fashion but nice nonetheless. So he deserted his suite of rooms, which no-one sane would dare to enter, and went down to have breakfast with the Death Eaters of his inner circle, minus Lucius (who had permission to stay at his own manor to watch over Potter) and minus Severus (because... well, he didn't exactly know why he wasn't there, but the Potion's Master surely had a reason- he better had).

He was just mixing his coffee with a little milk and two pieces of sugar and reaching for his usual cheese sandwiches, which his considerate house-elves had dutifully piled on the plate nearest to him, when his day started to go wrong, because said plate was indeed empty. Of course this wasn't the end of the world, because he had as mentioned before Death Eaters to scream at and to crucio (in this case Avery) and faithful house-elves, who hurried to fill the plate once again, however it disrupted his good mood.

When he finally was ready to enjoy his quiet breakfast with coffee and cheese sandwiches, Bellatrix decided to make an entrance and started to whine about him getting married to someone other than her, never mind the fact that she herself was already married to one of his most trusted and competent Death Eaters, and asked if he really planned to have sex with Potter, because she would gladly assist him in that matter, while he was desperately and with less and less success trying to enjoy his sandwich.

So after Bellatrix had totally spoilt his breakfast he went to see Dumbledore because they had a meeting to discuss wedding arrangements. He apparated just outside of Hogwarts' grounds (no way was he going to use the Portkey, which Dumbledore had sent and which was **supposed** to transport him the Headmaster's office) and walked to the school, secretly (very secretly) enjoying the sunshine.

But naturally things couldn't go smooth once that old coot and his troop of do-gooders were involved and before he even entered through the large double doors he ran into Minerva McGonagall, who looked at him with suspicion and disdain.

"Hello Minerva, how are you today?", he greeted with a cold smile which he was rather proud of, "Dumbledore is expecting me, if you will excuse me..."

It seemed she wouldn't and instead escorted him to the Headmaster's office. He couldn't really understand her reasoning behind this, because, in all honesty, what could she possibly do to him if he tried to take over the school or something? Not that he was going to do something along that line, he had proposed that contract, after all, and then he had signed it and if he didn't want to suffer the consequences (death the most famous but not the only one) he would not start the war again. Perhaps she thought this polite, but since she didn't say a word to him and tried to murder him with looks it wasn't very thoroughly.

Once at their destination he was greeted by the headmaster and Minerva made her leave.

After the fool offered him a lemon drop, which he of course refused, and smiled and twinkled at him, he decided it would be best to get going, before Dumbledore could move on to small talk: "I assume you already made all necessary preparation for my wedding? Or is there any problem?"

"Oh, not at all, my dear boy", the Dark Lord had to restrain himself, "I just thought you might want to add some personal touches. And of course you have to tell me, who you want as your personal guests, as your best man, such things."

Dumbledore had then proceeded to show him the cake, he had ordered the house-elves to serve, the menu, the list of people he wanted to invite on his fiancé's behalf and the design for the wedding clothes. That is where his day was totally ruined and where he decided to visit his betrothed to vent off his anger and possibly limit the damage already done. So he stormed out of Hogwarts, after telling the Headmaster, who looked as if he just won the Witch Weekly's prize for the most charming smile, that he was fired and that he would look to the wedding arrangements himself, and flooed from the Three Broomsticks to Malfoy Manor.

There he was surprised to find all Malfoys and Severus right in the study, where he arrived and they all seemed to be waiting for something or someone.

"Mylord", Lucius and Severus bowed, "We weren't expecting you, did something unforeseen happen?"

"More or less", evaded the Dark Lord, "But first I'd like to know why you all seem to be hiding in your study, Lucius, and where my soon-to-be husband would be."

"There was a little occurrence this morning that ended in Harry crying and his werewolf asking us to leave the room so that Black could calm him down", Lucius answered and proceeded to tell him what happened.

"Mylord", intervened Narcissa, "Won't you sit down? Draco will go and fetch Harry for you."

"Thank you, Narcissa, I indeed would like to talk to him", the tall dark-haired man replied and sat in one of the armchairs, as Draco went on his mission.

And so they waited. He wasn't used to being kept waiting, but Potter had the annoying habit to do just that. Why did he want to marry him again? Oh yeah, he was the boy-who-lived. He couldn't fight the smirk that was slowly spreading over his features. So those annoying sidekicks of his had called off their friendship? That certainly could turn out to be advantageous for him... If Dumbledore could still smile, if he knew about this news? Dumbledore- really the man had no sense let alone fashion sense!

Fortunately before he could loose his temper about this old fool, the door creaked open and Harry and Draco, who had waited outside for the Gryffindor, entered.

"Voldemort", he gave a curt nod and very stiffly sat down on one of the couches, "Lucius, Narcissa, I'm sorry for disrupting your breakfast earlier, if I had known I had went somewhere else so that it wouldn't have bothered you. I hope you can forgive me."

"Don't worry about it, dear", reassured the blonde woman, "It was by no means your fault and we would never blame it on you."

The boy-who-lived looked about ready to disagree when a slightly dishevelled Sirius, followed by a mischievously smiling Remus, burst into the room, panting and gasping for breath.

"How is your scar, Harry", the Potion's Master asked, trying to ignore the two new-comers completely, "Did my potion work?"

"I can't tell you, because a certain Dark Lord is angry and every time this certain Dark Lord is angry my scar hurts so if this certain Dark Lord would kindly calm down, I would gladly assist you with an answer", Harry snapped and sent a glowering look to the red-eyed man.

The Sirius and Remus looked at him shockedly, Harry usually didn't loose his temper like this, he was always kind and gentle and caring. Sure sometimes he would loose control, but not about something as trivial as this.

"Sorry, Severus, I think your potion worked the pain is subsiding", he apologised after taking a deep breath, "Don't look at me as if I lost my marbles."

"I have no idea why marbles could be relevant for the way we're looking at you", retorted Lucius, "but I'm sure it would lessen all of our curiosity if you would tell us, what just happened."

"'To have lost one's marbles' is a Muggle expression which stands for 'being insane'. Really, Lucius, it wouldn't do you any harm if you learned some of this stuff", he explained with a shy smile," As for the second part, Voldemort was really annoying me and this startled him out of it, didn't it? So what did you want, Voldemort?"

"I came to discuss our wedding", grumbled Voldemort, "I fired Dumbledore."

"Oh."

"Look at this", he shoved the design of their wedding clothes into his hands, "If you want to go like this, Dumbledore is your man."

"Actually this is your outfit", Harry corrected, mirth dancing in his eyes, "Calm down, will you? It's your own fault really, what did you expect him to do?"

Just then the happily burning fire changed to green and seconds later there was a loud tumbling and a large figure landed face-down on the Asian carpet. Immediately the figure had eight wands pointed at him (you could be rather sure the person was male) but he didn't seem to mind and instead groaned profusely and rolled onto his back so that the eight others could see his face.

"Dudley!", Harry exclaimed as soon as he caught a glimpse of his broad shouldered and muscled cousin and just as soon he was on top of him.

"Hey there, Scrawny", he laughed and somehow managed to stand up, while still holding him in his arms, "You could have warned me you know..."

"Why are you here anyway?", he inquired with one eyebrow raised, "I told you to come in a week."

"Tomorrow is your birthday."

"How did you know where I was?", he wanted to know.

Dudley laughed once again: "I asked that barkeeper- is his name Tom?- where I would find the Malfoys. Man, he looked at me weirdly and then there was this other guy, who shouted something about Death Eaters and You-Know-Who and when Simon asked him who, he went very pale..."

"Simon?", asked the black-haired boy, "Where is he, Dudley? I swear if you lost him..."

"Calm down", Dudley said soothingly, "He'll come any minute now. We decided it would be best to wait a little, since we weren't sure how this whole fireplace-thingy works."

As if on cue the flames turned green once again and a second figure appeared.

"Simon!", Harry greeted and hugged the lanky, brown haired boy fiercely, "It's great you're here."

The newcomer smiled gently and hugged him back: "It's good to see you. Mum sends her regards."

"Harry", interrupted Lucius, "It is nice to have some friends of you here, but this is still my house and I would at least like to know who they are."

"Oh, I'm sorry Mr. Malfoy, I assume?", Dudley butted in and after a nod continued, "Harry sent us some... Floo Powder? Yeah, so that we could come for his wedding, but tomorrow is his birthday and Simon and I wanted to make sure he'll get a nice wake-up call. I'm sorry for intruding your home, but I had no means to contact you beforehand."

"That is all well and good but I still don't know who you are", replied Lucius for the most part pacified.

"If you'll all sit down again, I'll make the introductions", Harry offered and pulled his guests down on a couch with him, "This is my cousin Dudley Dursley"- he pointed to his left where the tall young man sat- "And if you haven't figured it out yet he's a Muggle. This is Simon Turner he's one of my friends and he, too, is a Muggle. Dudley, Simon, these are my godfather Sirius and his boy-friend Remus."

"You don't look like a werewolf", Dudley blurted out, before ducking his head to avoid Harry's hit.

"Oh, don't I?", Remus asked quite amused, "And how am I supposed to look like?"

"I don't know", argued Dudley, "Sharper teeth I suppose, and more hairy and your ears are somehow wrong."

"Oh, be quiet, Dudley", reprimanded Harry, "Sorry, Remus. I assure you Remus is a werewolf. I don't always wear a pointed hat, either, and I'm still a wizard."

"But you have an owl", the blond defended himself, "And now continue with you introduction, Scrawny."

Harry sent him a glowering look, but did as ordered: "This is Professor Severus Snape, my teacher for potions. Lucius Malfoy, his wife Narcissa and their son Draco, who is in the same year as I."

"Draco?", Dudley once again interrupted, "This is really your name?"

"Shut up, Duddydums", Harry stopped him, before he could say something that he would regret later, "And next to them is Tom Marvolo Riddle, Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord or simply You-Know-Who."

"You gonna marry him?", asked Dudley incredulously, but Harry wasn't listening, for as soon as Simon had set eye on Tom he started to tremble violently and was pressing his palms to his temples.

"Calm down, Simon, please, focus on me", Harry begged and stirred him to one corner, putting his body in between the Muggle and the Dark Lord, effectively blocking Simon's sight.

The others couldn't look into Simon's face, because although Harry was much shorter and skinnier, Simon was hunched over and only the hands on his shoulders prevented him from falling to the floor. Anyway, if they could've seen his face, they would have seen the pain and anguish in his eyes which he had firmly locked with Harry's and the way his mouth was open so that he could gasp for air.

None of the others knew what was going on, and none of them liked it. Well, Dudley didn't really care for he was used to not understanding most of his cousin's life, but he still was a bit worried, when he started to tremble as well and was beginning to glow brightly.

The light surrounded his whole body and grew brighter and spread with every second, until it enveloped the corner in a shining white dome.

The Dark Lord had drawn his wand, but was rather unsure what to do now, it wasn't as if he was preparing to attack him, though it didn't look too healthy and he didn't want a dead groom. On the other hand he had no idea how he could possibly help him, since that concept was foreign to him and since he had never been confronted with something like that. Sure, he knew it was his aura surfacing- why was it so bright anyway? This was unnatural for normally a person's aura was never pure white- but that was by no means an everyday occurrence and he only knew it, because he read it once in a dreadfully boring book and hadn't experienced it up until now. So he was just standing there and trying to decipher what was happening between this Muggle and the boy-who-lived.

"He's evil!", Simon gasped now, holding onto the boy's shoulders himself and no-one could possible distinguish who was supporting whom.

"I know."

"He hates the whole world."

"I know."

"Why would you want to marry him?", his voice sounded pleadingly.

"I don't."

"What can he possibly give you? Why would you throw away your life?"

"Because I can save other's, Sirius'", he answered his head bowed and one single tear escaping his eyes, rolling down his cheek and disappearing in his black turtleneck.

"Would you have married him without Sirius?"

He laughed harshly, a desperate but determined look in his eyes: "Yes. And then I'd have killed myself."

Suddenly the light stopped to increase and instead slowly was drawn back into Harry and his last sentence vibrated in the room, finding every corner and silencing everybody. The Dark Lord still with his wand in his hand, Sirius who was being held back by Remus, the Malfoys with uncommonly surprised faces, Severus with a scowl on his face and worry in his eyes and Dudley worried and kneading his hands, as if in preparation of a good fight. Then as if in slow-motion Harry sank down just as the last ray of light disappeared and while Sirius still tried to get out of Remus' embrace Dudley rushed to his side and scooped the small boy up, before he could hit the floor and gently laid him on the sofa, cradling his left hand in his larger one.

"What the fuck happened, Simon?", he hissed, staring the other boy in the eye, "What is wrong with him?"

"He's exhausted", Simon answered calmly, walking over, careful to avoid any contact with Voldemort.

"Don't you give me that crap", spat Dudley, "I can accept that I don't understand or know what exactly he can do or how. And I can accept that he most likely has more secrets than anyone else I know. And I can accept that I'm only a small part of his life and that I don't deserve whatever good feelings, he might have towards me. But I can't accept that he faints in front of me and that he's obviously hurt and stand here and do **nothing**. So either you tell me what happened and how I can help him right now or I'll beat you up so badly that whenever your mother sees you, she'll run away screaming."

"She won't", Simon answered, not making a move to defend himself, "But Harry would be disappointed, you know that. We'll explain everything as soon as he wakes up."

"How long will it take?", Sirius asked anxiously, also crouching down next to the unconscious boy.

"About half an hour, I guess", Simon replied in the same gentle voice, "But don't worry, Mr. Black, he'll be like he was before."

_He didn't say that he would be alright_, noted Severus absently: "Maybe one of my potions would help?"

"I don't know anything about potions, Professor Snape, but I don't think it advisable since he used a lot of his magic and your potions would most likely only interfere with its replenishing itself."

"How do you know so much about magic as you're only a Muggle?", Lucius interrogated suspiciously.

"There's no such thing as 'only a Muggle', Mr. Malfoy. Everyone has magic and everywhere is magic, Muggles, as you call us, are just not able to access theirs. You can't divide the population of the whole world into Muggles and Wizards, there're people who have skills you can't even begin to comprehend. Harry is my best friend. You call him a wizard. So of course I know about magic and more importantly I know about Harry", for the first time the brown-haired's voice was a bit sterner.

"So how do you know him?", Remus intervened, truly intrigued by the young man.

"Dudley and his gang used to beat me up, when Harry found it out, he told them to stop it, so instead they bet him up", he shrugged his shoulders, as if it was how every friendship started.

"You bet up your own cousin?", Draco asked incredulously.

"I was a spoilt little brat with too much fat and too little common sense, of course I bet him up, I was a bully", Dudley spat with self-loathing, "He said you reminded him of me, when you first met."

Draco gasped, he surely had never been that horrible and he'd never attack a member of his own family (much less with his fists, but he guessed that could be excused in Dudley's case).

"Then how come that you're here in my house?", Lucius asked threateningly.

"Your **house**, Mr. Malfoy?", Dudley retorted in the same manner, "I don't see a house, all there is are ruins, dust and rocks, but it's sure something to be proud of..."

"There're Anti-Muggle-Wards on the mansion, Dudley", Simon explained, not looking at him, "And you should both stop, because Harry knows who he wants to be his friends."

"How can you be so bloody calm?", Dudley vented his anger.

"I trust him, he would never leave us alone", his eyes wandered over to Sirius, "He keeps his promises."

"Oh, is that so?", Voldemort asked sarcastically, "Then why did he just declare that he would commit suicide, as soon as we were married?"

"You shouldn't jump to conclusions from one sentence, you didn't hear correctly and without context", this answer only infuriated the resident Dark Lord more and with one fluid motion he had his wand in his hand and advanced on the brown-haired Muggle.

"Stop it, Voldemort", said Harry, who had woken up at the pain in his scar, and moved to shield Simon with his body, who in turn wrapped his arms around his waist, because he swayed dangerously, "He is right. I never said that I would commit suicide! I said that I would **have**! Mark the difference. And since we're already at it: I never promised to stay alive after the wedding, so I couldn't have broken a promise in the first place", he slowly stepped forward and took Voldemort's wand away, before he could protest, "And if you will please control your temper? My head is about ready to burst."

"Maybe you could explain now what happened", Dudley asked timidly and put an arm protectively around his shoulder, guiding him back to the sofa.

All others turned to him expectantly (Voldemort still trying to control his temper, but also miffed that Harry had taken away his wand).

"Since it is my secret", Simon began, when the green-eyed wizard made no move to give an explanation, "I'll be the one to explain it. As all of you are wizards, with the exception of Dudley, you can most likely guess that Voldemort's feelings aren't very... good-natured, too put it mildly", Sirius snorted at this, "Mr. Malfoy, I told you earlier that there're more things than wizards and Muggles. Well, I'm an empath, which means I can feel what the people around me feel", he added the last part for Dudley's sake, who looked rather confused, "Especially if I have a sort of contact with them. So when I earlier looked into Voldemort's eyes, I could feel what he felt. Normally every empath learns to put up barriers- I think wizards call this Occlumency- but I was curious and wanted to know what you were feeling and let my guard down"- he looked kind of sheepish and Harry grabbed his hand in a reassuring way- "I hadn't expected so many bad feelings and had what you could call a breakdown. If Harry hadn't blocked the flow of feelings with his own good feelings, I probably would have lost my mind. You can most likely guess that this act used a lot of his energy, which is the reason he blacked out."

"So you're an empath", repeated Severus.

"Yes, that about sums it up", smiled Simon.

The Potion's Master sent him a look that clearly stated, he didn't appreciate this kind of input: "There hasn't been an empath in over two hundred years!"

"My mum is an empath, too, as was my grandmother. And I once met one who was about ninety, though he was a little odd already", the empath answered, still smiling, "But I agree that they're pretty rare."

"I didn't know you could read my feelings", mumbled Dudley, "If I had known, I..."

"You'd have done what, Dudley?", asked Simon, "You can't stop feeling. You can try, but it will never work", he looked at Voldemort briefly, who missed the look for he was too concentrated on his hands, "But most of the time I have my barriers up and only perceive your general feelings, whether you're happy or sad, nothing too precise.

"How did you know how to help your friend?", Lucius asked much warmer than before, the prospect of having an empath stay at his home, lifting his mood immensely.

Harry just shrugged his shoulders: "I did it a couple of times, his mum showed me, when she found out I was a wizard."

"So do you know about... ehm... Vernon?", Dudley wanted to know hesitantly.

Simon only nodded, looking grimmer and made a move that told the muscular boy to leave it at that.

"Who's Vernon?", Narcissa inquired, speaking up for the first time.

"My father", replied Dudley shortly and ignored the questioning looks.

"What did your parents say, anyway, to you visiting me?", Harry changed the subject and leaned back so that he could look into his face.

"Oh, they think I'm at Piers'. I couldn't very well tell them that I was going to throw some powder into the next best fireplace to reappear at some dilapidated ruins", said Dudley.

"And what if your mother calls Piers? I wouldn't be too surprised", questioned the black-haired boy.

"Don't worry, he'll keep mum. I roughed him up the other day", Dudley told him nonchalantly.

"What? Why ever did you do that?", he jumped up and backed away like Dudley was something disgusting and somehow scary.

"I had a reason okay!", the tall Muggle answered back, standing as well, "He was rude!"

"He was rude? He was rude!", the petite boy echoed, while the others watched fascinated, "You are being rude, since you stepped out of this fireplace, hell, you're being rude, since I know you and I know you since I was one year old. You can't beat up people just because they act slightly the way you always act. I don't walk around the school, hexing everyone who looks at me wrongly - although some people seemed to assume that", he threw a look at Severus, who looked decidedly uncomfortable now, "I totally agree that Piers is an idiot, who most likely deserved it, but that is not the point. I want you to apologise!"

"I won't apologise to that asshole, Harry. He deserved it and if you knew what he said, you would agree with me!", Dudley argued back.

"Oh, yes? I'm curious, fill me in!", Harry demanded mockingly, "What could he possibly have said that entitled you to break your promise. You remember that promise, don't you?"

"You don't want them to know", Dudley beckoned him to the same corner, in which Harry had previously calmed Simon down.

Harry followed reluctantly: "No eavesdropping!", he told the others sternly and looked at Sirius and Voldemort in particular.

"He asked about you", Dudley started in a whisper, moving close to his ear, "I don't know how he found out, but he knew about Vernon and he asked me... he asked me if he could have a go, too."

The raven-haired boy had gone deathly pale in them matter of seconds and was shaking.

"I'm sorry I broke my promise, but I really think he deserved it", said Dudley in a low voice.

"He won't tell anyone, will he?", Harry begged desperately, "He wouldn't let him, right? He...please, tell me he won't."

"Shh, I'll protect you, I promise", the tall young man reassured him, "Nothing bad will happen, I won't let them."

"Thanks", he smiled at him, "but you shouldn't have beaten him up, anyway."

Dudley sighed deeply and said good-humouredly: "Yes, I know, I know, Scrawny. I'm a baaaaad person!"

"Self-awareness is the first step to improvement, Duddydums", he said jokingly, "And Dudley, the floor isn't really that tumbledown, it's only an illusion, there's no need to walk in wiggley lines."

Dudley looked slightly embarrassed and, refusing to look at the floor, walked back to the sofa.

"I'll take off the anti-Muggle spells around you", Lucius volunteered and pulled out his wand.

If possible Dudley seemed even more uncomfortable and stiffened, while Lucius performed the spell. When the light blue fog around him disappeared he blinked a few times to adjust his eyes and when he finally got a good look at his surroundings he gaped openly.

The male Malfoys smirked triumphantly, as if to say: "Now, who is living in some old, dusty ruins!"

"Would you want me to remove the spells for you, too, Mr. Turner?", Lucius asked generously, for it was surely worth it, seeing such a look again.

"No thank you, it's quite alright for me", Simon declined happily, "But there's this little creature behind you, who I assume is a house-elf, and I think they want to tell you something."

"Master Malfoy, Sir", squeaked the little creature with a deep bow, as soon as Lucius faced it, "Giddy came to tell you that lunch is served on the south terrace, Master Malfoy, Sir."

"Very well", Lucius replied, dismissing the house-elf with a hand gesture, "I believe we could all use some refreshments. Cissa, if you will show our guests the way?"

"Of course", Narcissa smiled pleasantly, offering her arm to Voldemort, "If you will all follow me?"

Dudley eager at the prospect of food (of course he had dropped a lot of weight by boxing and a more balanced diet, but that didn't mean that he couldn't appreciate a good meal) and still admiring his environment followed suite. Remus soon caught up, because he really was interested in a Muggle's view on werewolves and Draco went to lead the empath to the dining room. Sirius and Severus were the next to go, it was difficult to say, who was more displeased and they glared at each other the whole way. So that left only Lucius and Harry in the study.

The blond aristocrat, figuring that Harry wanted to be alone for a moment, went to leave as well, but the black-haired boy stopped him: "Lucius, can I talk to you for a moment?", he asked softly and laid one of his small, delicate hands on his arm.

"Sure, do you have a problem, Harry?", he asked quite concerned.

"The question is, if you have a problem, Lucius", Harry corrected him, "Is it really okay that my cousin and Simon are here, is it okay that I am here? If not, you have to tell me, Lucius, I don't want to be a burden!"

"You're not a burden, Harry, neither are your friends, though I have to admit that I was a bit surprised at their arrival. I invited you and Black and Lupin and I would have invited Mr. Turner and Mr. Dursley, too, if I had known of their plan to visit you", Lucius contradicted vehemently.

"Are you sure, you aren't letting me stay so that Voldemort won't be pissed at you?", he asked sceptically, but pleadingly.

"I am a Slytherin and I'm proud of that fact, Harry. Of course I look for my own interests firstly, but I won't betray my friends and I consider you a friend", he said, continuing, before the Gryffindor could say something against it, "I may be a Death Eater but I still can think for myself, other than some of them. I enjoy having you here and weirdly enough I enjoy your godfathers' presence as well, though if you tell them I will deny it vehemently. So don't worry, I would definitely tell you, if you were no longer welcome. Or no, on second thought, I wouldn't- I would order one of the house-elves to pack your things and have them along with you dumped outside my gates. But you would certainly notice it."

To Lucius' surprise the small wizard beamed at him and threw his arms around his midsection, hugging him tightly: "Thank you!", he mumbled into his robes, before he let go of him and smiled once again: "We should go or the others will wonder why we're so late... And I really love your garden!"

The green-eyed boy grabbed one of his arms and tried to drag him down the corridor, but Lucius stopped him: "Malfoys don't rush and we are never late!", he said and offered his arm and with a roll of his bright green eyes and a low chuckle Harry put his hand in the crook of his arm.

Although Lucius refused to "rush", they reached the terrace only a little bit after the others, because Lucius' legs were so long that Harry had to hurry to keep up, which caused Lucius to smirk superiorly, which in turn caused Harry to slap his arm lightly.

"Harry doesn't like beans, put some carrots on his plate instead, they're pretty healthy, at least Muggle ones are", they heard Dudley say, as they walked out on the terrace and watched as he held out a plate to Sirius, who piled liberate amounts of carrots and peas on it, while Simon cut up some chicken to also put it on the plate.

"Well, I'm sure I'll have enough to eat. What about you, Lucius?", Harry whispered in his ear, now smirking himself and took a seat between Simon and Dudley and across from Sirius, while all the Slytherins looked rather confused.

"Thank you, but that's more than enough, why don't you fill your own plates?", he thanked them and took the plate, before Sirius could also add some mashed potatoes.

"You're no fun, Scrawny", Dudley pouted, but reached for the peas, "Now, eat."

"Yes, Mum", Harry said and tucked in.

"Don't you take that tone with me, young man", the blond said sternly, "Or you won't get to see your cake."

He looked up sharply: "You made me a cake?"

"Yes", Dudley seemed really proud, but when Harry stared at him suspiciously, he corrected himself, "Well, I tried, really. And Janine had promised to help me, but we broke up and somehow when I bet up Piers- I shouldn't have done it, it's clear- I forgot the cake and it burnt. So I bought you one instead and one of those wizards- at least he had a wand- shrank it, so it wouldn't get damaged. He seemed the only nice one around, the others were just staring or rather glaring."

"Why did you break up with Janine?", Harry asked concerned, because although he had only met the girl once, he thought she was pretty nice and had a good influence on Dudley.

"She thought he was cheating on her", explained Simon, "So in reality she broke up."

"But I didn't cheat on her!", Dudley exclaimed indignantly.

"Maybe you should tell that your girl-friend and not us", Severus advised, quite annoyed that he couldn't enjoy his meal in silence.

"I'm not suicidal, thank you very much", replied the tall blond, "She won't even let me finish the 'hello', if I show up in the next week."

"If you don't talk to her or at least make an attempt to, she'll think you don't care for you", stated Harry.

"The whole point was that I have a cake for you", Dudley pacified quickly and put a miniature cake beside him.

"Sirius, could you enlarge it again, please?", Harry asked his godfather, who promptly pulled out his wand and returned the cake to its original size.

The cake looked quite delicious, with vanilla cream and strawberries, but instead of "Happy Birthday" the icing formed the words "Congratulations for your Wedding- Paula & Dillan".

"I always thought my name was 'Harry', but look at this! It seems I was wrong", he mocked scooping some of the cream on his finger and licking it off (which disturbed Voldemort in all the wrong ways".

"Well, it was rather short term and I thought this was more fitting than 'Sincere condolences'", justified Dudley himself.

"I think this cake suits the oncoming situation just fine", Voldemort butted in, who had kept mostly quiet (and his temper in check) over the last two hours or so, in a vain attempt to focus his thought s on something else than his fiancé's mouth or the way that the new clothes accented his petite figure in just the right places, seeming all to attractive, although almost everything was left to the imagination- and what a wild imagination he had, "And I'd like to seize this chance to come back to the reason, why I came by in the first place."

"Oh, right", Harry answered, continuing his meal, "You told me you fired Dumbledore?"

"Yes, and now I have to organise my own marriage", complained Voldemort (of course nothing near pouting- of course not!).

"And to think I was worried about child labour and famine in Africa...", Harry mocked and cleaned his plate with a piece of bread.

"Ha, ha, very funny. Now, is it possible that we head back in and make the necessary plans?", the Dark Lord said sarcastically.

"Can't we stay outside?", asked the black-haired young wizard, "Lucius' garden is really beautiful."

"I. Don't. Care", Voldemort pressed out, "But I have other things to do, so since I already wasted the whole morning..."

"Oh, great!", laughed the boy-who-lived, ignoring his irritated mood, "Simon, I have to show you that river, it's great come on!"

**So what do you think?**


	12. Organisation

**Disclaimer: Do I look like J.K.Rowling to you? No? Well, what is your conclusion to that? Exactly, it's not mine!**

**Author's Note: Sorry, I made you wait so long, but I went to visit my best friend directly after school yesterday and when I came back I was so tired that I just dropped off as good as dead and this morning I decided that I should be more sporty and went jogging and... well, I could go on for a while still, you wouldn't believe how many reasons I had for not updating until now, but anyway, I don't want to bore you, so just read the next chapter already and leave a review afterwards, okay?**

**Oh, and dear Confused Reader, I appreciate the information and the link you sent me, but maybe you should read the definition once more, because it says "4. a landowner" and that's what Narcissa and Lucius are to me- they own their land. And that's also how I learned it in school so if it's wrong you can blame my English teacher.**

**emphasis**

_thoughts/letters_

"speech"

* * *

**12. ORGANISATION**

When they finally were all seated in the garden near the white bench (which was occupied by Narcissa and Lucius) and Simon had ceased to admire the river and the flowers and the rocks and... well, everything, Voldemort concluded that whenever a day started good, it was saver to stay in bed, because it would only get worse. Sirius and Remus were enjoying the sun and each other, Sirius with his head on Remus' thigh, and were silently enjoying to see Voldemort getting more agitated with every second. Dudley and Draco had a rather civil discussion about whether Muggles or wizards were superior, which ended with Dudley reminding the blond Slytherin that he could also beat him up during the holidays and Draco reminding him that he could ask one of his parents or his godfather to transfigure him into an animal of his choice. Severus felt rather dispensable and thought about going back to his lab to work on that potion for Harry, when said boy beckoned him over to ask whether or not Muggles could see unicorns (of course they could- where else would those stupid and ridiculous fairytales come from?). He ended up next to the empath, though they didn't talk much and he had the unsavoury feeling that Turner was reading his feelings, which prompted him to strengthen his Occlumency shields.

"Okay, the cake, Dumbledore chose is acceptable, provided of course it is not poisoned", Voldemort began, getting everyone's attention, "That leaves us with everything else to plan. Let's begin with the clothing."

"I always thought the groom wears a suit, so why are you making such a fuss about it?", Dudley asked, not seeing any flaw in his reasoning.

"Because, we are wizards and wizards don't wear suits to their wedding", Voldemort replied in a forced calm, _no need to break the contract just yet._

"Oh", Dudley tried to imagine a wedding without suits and wedding gowns, "Then, what do you wear?"

"Robes", Snape supplied, after he was satisfied with his mental shields and again able to follow the conversation, "Dress robes."

"Not just any dress robes, Severus", scolded Narcissa, "They represent what each of the two is and expects of life and their marriage."

"What did your robes look like?", Harry asked interestedly, who sat with his back against Simon's drawn up legs.

Narcissa seemed to space out a little, as she described in detail her appearingly beautiful wedding attire: "It was a magnificent shade of light blue with golden linings. There was a delicate gold chain, serving as a belt and the silk-like tissue flowed elegantly to the floor, making no noise at all, when I walked. My hair was done up in a complicated swept-up hairdo, which left my neck bare, so that everyone could see one of the Black family heirlooms: a necklace with a black onyx and silver unicorn in it."

She sighed deeply, before snapping back into reality.

"Why don't we wear dress robes with our family crest on it?", suggested Harry.

"That's an idea, though we still have to chose at least matching colours", Voldemort reminded him, but he seemed to like the idea nonetheless.

Harry appeared to be really embarrassed as he asked: "What does the Potter family crest look like?"

"It has a lion on it, which sharpens its claws on an birch. Between its paws there's a sword with a ruby in its hilt", Sirius described and smiled encouragingly, "No wonder, the whole family went to Gryffindor...Anyway, if you want you can also have the Black family crest, because... you know, of course you don't have to..."

"I'd love to, but only if it doesn't show something gross", his godson agreed readily.

"Don't worry, there's only a black unicorn on it rearing up. But maybe it would be better if you could look at it for yourself, though I have no idea how to do it and although I can fetch one of the Black family crests, I doubt there's still one of the Potters or at least I have no idea where we could look for it", Sirius said pensively.

"I think there should be at least one in your vault, Harry", commented Lucius, "But I think there's also a spell, however, I can't remember it exactly, so going to Gringotts will most likely be faster."

"I know this spell", Voldemort informed them in a matter-of-fact voice, "If would kindly hand back my wand, I'll perform it."

"Okay, how does this spell work?", Harry asked as he gave him the wanted item.

"I'll need parchment", he conjured up two rolls, "And a drop of your blood."

"Oh no, I think not. The last time someone took blood from me, I was chained to a tombstone, I'd rather not repeat that experience", Harry objected and moved out of his reach.

"Well, it doesn't work without your blood or your bones. Would you rather I took some of your bones?", Voldemort asked sarcastically.

"You do it", the black-haired boy demanded, "You'll perform the spell on yourself to produce your own family crest. And if I think the procedure is acceptable you can do it with me."  
The Dark Lord groaned annoyed, but conjured up a dagger and cut his forefinger. At once a drop welled out and bringing his hand over one of the parchments he let the crimson liquid fall on it and tapped his wand against the parchment. At first it looked as if nothing would happen, but then like on the Marauders Map a spidery web of dark lines appeared, which concentrated on some parts and left a few places blank so that after a while you could recognise the snake of Slytherin, wrapped around a small, unimpressive dagger, which wasn't on the Hogwarts crest. After all the lines had stopped spreading, the parchment started to emit colours: green for the snake, red for its eyes, silver for the dagger and black for the background. Beneath the snake their was also a writing in silver: _Aut captantur, aut captant _(1).

"Happy now?", the tall dark-haired man scoffed, "Am I now allowed to perform the spell on you?"

Harry still looked very sceptical, but extended his hand so that Voldemort could cut his finger. Tom pressed the dagger against the tip of his forefinger and then turned his hand around, so that his blood fell onto the parchment, he had moved with his other hand. He let go of his hand, but not before caressing the milky white skin lightly. Again the lines moulded into a crest, this time however the lion, Sirius had previously described, alongside with the sword and the birch appeared. After the outlines were finished, colour appeared and tinged the lion gold with clear blue eyes (which reminded Harry nastily of Dumbledore's), the sword silver with a red ruby and the inscription: _Fight for your life, live for your Love_, on it, and the birch white with light green leaves.

Harry traced the lion lightly with his fingertips and smiled, albeit sadly: "It's raining!", he whispered and stared at the silver lines that made out the background.

"What did you say, Harry?", Sirius asked alarmed and tried to get a look at the crest as well.

The boy crawled over to lay down beside him and held the parchment over their heads: "I said it's raining. Look!"

He again traced one of the silvery lines.

"Jamie loved the rain", Sirius smiled the same sad smile as Harry, "Like you do. It seems it's a family tradition."

"Why would one of the lightest Wizarding families there ever was put something as depressing and... sinister as rain on their crest", Malfoy junior butted in, who hadn't heard what Sirius said, "That's absurd!"

"A light can only shine in the dark", Simon said philosophically, "You wouldn't say this handy little spell to have more light, if you can see everything perfectly clear, would you?"

"Can I see your crest, Siri?", Harry asked, because Draco didn't seem to be in the right mood to have an other discussion right now.

"Of course", Sirius agreed and conjured up another roll of parchment for his own family crest, before asking Voldemort (in a strained but polite voice) to explain the spell.

Soon after the Animagus held out his parchment for Harry to take. It showed the black unicorn with silver hooves and green ivy vines twined around its long legs, holding it down. The background was a dark blue, which looked like the night sky in a cloudy night. Here, too, was writing over the unicorn, which Harry had already seen on the Black family tree: _Toujours pur_.

"Good, now we have all the crests, but we still have to decide the colours for the robes themselves" Voldemort continued- _really he had spent enough time on this whole thing, it was time to get going._

"Well, I think they would both go well with black", Harry voiced his opinion, but the shocked expression of Narcissa told him that he had said something extremely wrong.

"You can't wear black to a wedding, let alone when your the submissive partner ", the blonde woman informed him sternly.

"Oh... Why not? I mean Muggle grooms wear black, too, and I don't see why I can't do the same", Harry asked confusedly, deciding to ignore the comment about him being the submissive partner.

"Because black symbolises death and sadness and that's not the feelings you want to have at a wedding", explained Narcissa, "So your robes can't be black."

"Okaaaay", Harry gave in, "Then one of you suggest something else!"

"I would suggest either green, since it symbolises hope and a darker green would go lovely with your eyes, Harry", Narcissa said, smiling encouragingly at the Gryffindor, "Or maybe blue because it stands for peace which would be rather fitting, too."

"I guess black robes for me and dark green robes for you are acceptable", conceded the Dark Lord, "Great. Now the guest list. Dumbledore already made yours, so I think we can move right on..."

"Excuse me, but I would like to see that list and I think it's unfair that you get to wear black robes, while I'm not allowed to", Harry interrupted and ignored Dudley's murmured "Road runner, that guy should relax once in a while".

Voldemort shuffled through his papers and handed the list over: "I always wear black and since at least one of us will have to have robes in an other colour this will be you, but I'll chose a very dark green for you, if it makes you feel better."

"Fine. Could you conjure up some ink, please?", Harry said to Sirius after only a short glance to the list.

When the Animagus had done to his bidding, he started to scratch out some of the names on the list- no not some, most of them.

The others watched, but Harry made a dismissive motion with his hand: "It might be surprising for some of you, but I can do this without your supervision. Why don't you continue planning, Voldemort? You seem to be in an awful hurry."

"I'm well aware of both facts, thank you", the red-eyed man scowled, annoyed at being told what to do, "But what are you doing?"

"I'm crossing out names. I thought it was obvious", Voldemort's scowl deepened, "Have you read this list? No? Did you know that I'm supposed to invite almost the whole ministry? I don't know most of them and most of the ones I know, I don't like. Then there are the bridesmaids. Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger. Since they hate me at the moment I don't see them at the wedding not to mention in that position. And why do I have to chose both bridesmaids? I want Dudley as my best-man."

"For all I care... Then Bellatrix will be my bridesmaid", Voldemort sighed, noting it down, thus missing the fury flashing briefly in the emerald eyes.

"You know, I think I have a better idea: Make her the bride!", he said sweetly, "Now, that that's settled, I think you should ask her all these questions and prepare. Do you want me to be your best-man?"

"What the hell is wrong now, Potter?", Voldemort spat angrily.

"What is wrong?", he nearly screamed, "I'll tell you what's wrong: You named the woman, if you can call her that, bridesmaid, who almost killed my godfather, though it was his own fault, who crucioed Neville after gloating him about how she tortured his parents into insanity so that they don't remember their own son, and god knows what else she did. You want her at this stupid wedding? Fine, but then I won't be there!"

Just then Voldemort realised that he had never seen the boy-who-lived truly angry and for the first time he felt something like unease- and will I survive if I say fear?- rise in him. Sure the boy had defeated him_- well, not really defeated_, he corrected himself, _more like he escaped him a couple of times, yes that sounded better-_ but it had always been curiosity he had felt towards him, not this. For the first time he seemed scary and dangerous, a force to be reckoned with, not Dumbledore's little pawn, not the Golden Boy, who you don't have to fear, because he would show mercy, anyway, no longer a mere child with too much luck. It can be easily concluded that he didn't like this new revelation, although... this made him a lot more interesting!

"Who do you suggest I take as a bridesmaid instead?", he asked calmly, because of this recent perception, "There're no other female Death Eaters."

"What about Narcissa?", Harry asked back, still annoyed, "And why can't you decide something for yourself? Something reasonable, I mean."

"Narcissa, would you be my bridesmaid?", Voldemort inquired to the blonde and she accepted at once.

"Of course, I'd be honoured. Harry, who will be your bridesmaid, dear?", she said cheerfully, keen to lessen the tension.

"Luna Lovegood", was the answer, "Though I still have to ask her."

"Isn't her father the editor of the Quibbler?", asked Sirius, "I liked their article about me, it was rather flattering."

"Yes, that'd be her. I'll send her a letter, as soon as Hedwig is back."

"Was there anything else wrong with Dumbledore's list?", Lucius, who already knew that he would be Voldemort's best-man, inquired politely.

"Yes, he wrote down that he would be the one walking down the aisle with me, since Fudge obviously is going to officiate the wedding, but I want Sirius!"

"Well, then he will spent the day in Azkaban, won't he?", Severus remarked hopefully, "Since Pettigrew will only be **found** after the wedding."

"No, you'll hand him over before the wedding", Harry corrected him, "Since I will keep my promise and since I want Sirius to be there. Or are you of another opinion, Voldemort?"

"You're giving me a headache."

"The feeling is mutual and I take that as a no."

"You're purposefully trying to annoy me, aren't you?"

"Sometimes."

Voldemort groaned, before pulling himself together: "Now that's established, we only have the decorations and the music left. Any suggestions?"

"No lilies and no."

"Well, then I suggest white roses and ivy and an instrumental piece", Voldemort said, not expecting any objections and for once he wasn't disappointed.

While Voldemort was noting down what they had agreed on so far, Harry's snowy white owl appeared from behind a tree and landed next to the boy hooting affectionately.

"Hey, there, Hedwig. Had a good hunt?", he asked softly and stroked her white feathers, "Could you deliver a letter for me?"

Hedwig nipped his hair a little and hooted once again, as the boy-who-lived composed a very short letter:

_Luna, be my bridesmaid, will you? Harry_

It was more of a formality anyway. Luna was one of the only ones he had kept in touch with over the holidays and although their friendship was strange at times and Luna would consistently tell him about some fantastic beast or other, he wouldn't want to miss it.

The black-haired boy folded the small piece of paper and held it out for Hedwig, who took it in her beak and took off, gently whipping his head with one of her wings.

"Great", Dudley exclaimed happily and jumped to his feet, "Now everything is settled, we can finally watch the films, I brought for you."

"What is a film?", Draco asked careful to at least have the right pronunciation.

Dudley gaped openly at him, as if the other blond boy had started to sprout wings or additional body parts: "You don't know what a film is? You don't know what a film is!"

"No, or I wouldn't have asked, would I?", drawled Draco.

"So you don't have a DVD player, correct? Well, good of me, I brought my laptop, isn't it?", the tall young man seemed really proud of himself.

"It won't work here, Muggle", Voldemort scowled, which earned him a glare from his soon-to-be husband, "There's too much magic around, which will interfere with the electricity."

"Actually...", started Harry still glaring at the Dark Lord.

"There's a spell, which will channel the magic so that instead of hindering it will support the laptop", Simon finished and smiled softly, "I'm sure we can convince one of you to perform that spell for us."

"Sure", agreed Remus, "If you show me the instructions, I'll do that."

"The incantation is 'Antiforte', Remus", Harry smiled and took his larger hand in one of his so that he could make the wand movement, "You just say it and I move your wand, okay?"

The werewolf nodded and waited, till Sirius had enlarged the laptop again and placed it in front of the two so that they could do the spell together. The laptop began to shake slightly and glowed with a yellowish light, before it went back to normal.

Dudley started at once to set up his laptop, but Harry stopped him: "We should go inside, Dudley. It'll be raining soon."

The Muggle looked around and checked for clouds, however when he didn't see any, but a few harmlessly-looking fleecy clouds, he was a bit surprised, but didn't protest and packed his things together: "If you say so, Scrawny... I'll be inside, okay? I'll be looking for a toilet."

"Me too", Simon said, standing also and gathered the DVDs in his arms, "Enjoy your rain."

"Ask one of the portraits for help, will you?", the black-haired boy begged, "I'm not in the mood to search for hours..."

The two boys held up their hands in surrender: "Understood. We'll be good and ask for the way."

Harry laid back down against Remus' thigh, his head next to his godfather's: "You do realise that most of those portraits are not very nice or helpful, when it comes to strangers?", Lucius asked with a raised eyebrow, "They'll most likely end up in the dungeons or in a trap."

"No, they won't", Harry closed his eyes, "Don't worry!"

"And why are you so sure about this?", taunted Voldemort.

"They like me."

"They like you?"

"It's said to happen once in a while, Voldemort", he scowled, but left his eyes closed, "And you should either use a Water-Repelling Spell or follow them inside, because it's going to rain every minute now."

Sirius leaned over him and kissed his brow: "Remus and I will look after your cousin and your other friend."

Remus, too, kissed him lightly and got up: "Don't stay too long, Harry, I don't want you to catch a cold."

Just then the first raindrop fell, the unimposing clouds having grown darker and larger in the matter of minutes, since the magic around Malfoy Manor had unbalanced the forces of nature, and a gentle smile began to play with Harry's lips. The others made their way back through the park, not before using the Water-Repelling Spell, while he just laid there and let the warm summer rain wet his clothes and hair and skin. The Dark Lord looked back over his shoulder to find out why the boy seemed to want to stay out there. Because, objectively seen, it was wet, nothing more nothing less. Sure, he himself enjoyed a bath now and then, but that was in a bathroom with perfectly clean and warm water and not water mixed with dead insects and bacteria. Anyway, it didn't appear like he would get his answer very soon, for his fiancé didn't do anything special, just laying there with his eyes closed and his face wet with all the raindrops. Just when he was about to turn around again, the Gryffindor got up in one fluid motion and glanced briefly in his eyes. And then he ran. Ran like he was fleeing from him or maybe the place where he had been moments before. Voldemort stood there in the rain and watched him as he was running further and further away and finally disappeared behind a veil of water.

Meanwhile the others had reached the manor relatively dry and it seemed like even the two Muggles hadn't been lost on their search for a toilet and were back with the others.

"How am I supposed to know, who the portrait was I talked with?", Dudley huffed to Lucius' question, "To me they all look the same: blond hair, bright eyes and the nose somewhere up in the skies."

Sirius burst into bark-like laughter and tapped Dudley on the shoulder.

"What are you so happy about, Siri?", they all spun around as they heard the soft melodious voice from the doorway.

Harry was totally wet from head to toes. His hair was even more out of order than normally and was dripping over his back, letting small flows of water run down to the floor, where there already was a little puddle. He was still smiling slightly and there was a happy glow in his emerald eyes.

"How can you be so wet after only five minutes?", Severus asked incredulously.

Harry laughed happily: "Did you really think, blowing up potions was my only talent, Severus?"

"I rather hoped so", the Potion's Master murmured and was hit by Harry's soaking turtleneck in the face, "Potter, I'm still your teacher and as such I demand respect..."

"Whatever, Professor", Dudley interrupted and put an arm around the delicate shoulders of his cousin, stirring him from the room, "But we have films to watch."

Simon slung an arm around his narrow waist and walked with them.

"Oh, I almost forgot", suddenly Harry was back in the room and smiled shyly up at Narcissa, "Could you help me to learn how to dance sometime?"

"Of course, dear", the regal woman returned the smile unusually tenderly, "I'll make sure to reserve a bit of my time for you. And now go and watch your... films."

"Thank you", Narcissa was a bit helpless as to what to do with an armful of a grateful black-haired boy, but luckily for her the small wizard drew back almost immediately and skipped from the room.

"Draco", his head appeared once again, "I thought you wanted to find out what a film is", he held out his hand and waited till he grabbed it with his much larger one.

"Ehm, Draco?", they were both laying on Draco's bed up until this moment, "I wanted to ask you something..."

Dudley and Simon were asleep in Harry's rooms which was the reason why they were not there. The petite wizard had claimed that he didn't want to wake them up and Draco had agreed to go to his room (though it was more that Dudley snored and it was annoying him, which had persuaded him).

"Sure", Draco put his chin on his folded hands, to be able to watch him better as he fiddled with the hem of his pyjama top, "Spill it."

"I wanted to ask...", he seemed really nervous, "Before first year on the train, you asked me whether we'd be friends, do you remember?"

"Let me think about it ...", Draco mocked, not sure where the dark-haired boy was going with this, "Are you talking about that one time you rejected my hand of friendship? I think I remember. I mean I'm not completely sure since being rejected is an everyday occurrence for a Malfoy, but the situation seems vaguely familiar..."

Harry turned around so that he could only see his back: "Just forget it. It was stupid, anyway."

"No", he grabbed his arm and spun him back around, "I'm sorry I reacted like that. Please, tell me what you wanted to say."

He used his best puppy dog eyes (which weren't all this good, however they worked with his mother every time, so he thought trying would do him no harm).

"I wanted to apologise for that", he whispered and the Slytherin had to strain to even catch the words, "I realise now that I was being stupid and that I should have chosen you and I know this looks as if I'm only asking now, because Ron and Hermione turned their backs on me, but I wanted to ask you earlier... And I can understand if you reject me now, but..."

"Harry", he interrupted his ramblings and smiled encouragingly at him, "If you're someday going to ask whether I want to be your friend, I'll have to tell you that I'd be honoured to accept."

That made Draco the third Malfoy with Harry hugging him today: "Really? You would really be my friend? You're not angry I rejected you?"

"I think you most likely did the right thing from your point of view", Draco confessed, remembering what Dudley had said earlier about him, "I was a bit of a spoilt brat, but I'd like to start anew..."

"I'd like that, too, Draco", Harry was now laying half on his chest and drummed something with his fingertips, "And I don't expect you to always be there for me or give up your friends for me... I just don't want to be all alone", Harry added hastily.

"You won't be alone, Harry", he reassured him and moved his hand in circles on the small of his back, "We'll make you an honorary Slytherin or something and I'm sure my friends will want to be your friends, too. We're really not that bad once you get to know us..."

Draco let his voice fade, when he felt the other boy's breathing evening out and slowly turned his head so that he could peer into his face without waking him. Yep, his eyes were closed. Carefully he moved one leg and slipped out of his shoe, before he repeated the same with the other foot. Thank Merlin, the smaller wizard had left his shoes... well, somewhere, and had changed in his pyjamas already (for some reason, they were much too big and obviously they hadn't bought new ones) and thank Merlin, he himself had removed his pullover sometime earlier while they watched this film called "The Lion King", because so now he could just cover them with his Slytherin green blanket and also go to sleep.

"Sleep well, little hero", he whispered in his ear, not sure where this tenderness came from, "I'm your friend now."

Outside of his door, stood Voldemort and was far from happy. Not because he was jealous of his as-good-as-groom in the bed of another man (although now he thought about it, he wasn't too happy about this situation). No, but why did he like everyone but him, why did he hug everyone but him? He couldn't even stand his touch it seemed, but he had no problem with his godfather (which was acceptable since he was his godfather after all), the werewolf (which was okay also, because he was like a second godfather), his cousin (he was a family member after all) Narcissa (which was not that bad since she was already happily married), that empath (which he could live with), Severus, Lucius and now Draco. And with those last three he had a problem. He had no reason whatsoever to hug them or like them. Severus was a potion prodigy, okay, but he was greasy-haired and ill-tempered and absolutely not likeable. Lucius Malfoy was a Malfoy. That left nothing to add really: He was cold and felt superior to everyone. His son was a not much smaller version. So why did he like them, but not him? Surely he wasn't so bad?

Deciding that he needed help to solve this problem he went in search of his right-hand man, whom he found in his study. He knocked lightly on the door, but had no patience to wait for a reply and just entered. Lucius sat behind his desk and was obviously looking through some papers.

"Mylord", he greeted and inclined his head in greeting, "I wasn't aware of you still being here."

"I'm trying to avoid your sister-in-law", murmured the Dark Lord and waved the question away like a buzzing insect, "I hope it is no problem."

"Not at all, Mylord", Lucius answered, as he had expected, "Won't you take a seat?"

"Did you know that your son is at the moment sharing his bed with Harry Potter?", Voldemort asked, while sitting down in one of the armchairs near the fire.

Lucius appeared rightfully surprised, but not overly worried: "No, Mylord. But if this is bothering you, I'll look to it that it won't happen again."

"That's not why I came, Lucius", corrected the dark-haired wizard, "I don't care if they **sleep** in the same bed. It is more the why that is bothering me."

"Could you reword your question, Mylord?", asked the blond aristocrat.

"Why is it that everybody likes him? And why doesn't he like me?", demanded Voldemort to know, "How can I make him like me as well?"

"Can I speak bluntly, Mylord?", Lucius inquired carefully and took a deep breath, when Voldemort gave a jerky nod, "I don't know much about him, Mylord. But I know that he doesn't like it, when you speak about him behind his back. I told him today that I consider him a friend and since it's true I'd hate to destroy what little trust he has in me. If you want my advice, I would say that you should talk to him and really get to know him."

"He'll never talk to me, Lucius. He hates me.", Voldemort protested, thinking silently that Lucius could be grateful for his special position or he would be under the Cruciatus for what he had said.

"Tomorrow is his birthday", suggested the blond, "Get him something and if he likes it, ask him if he will take a walk with you. Harry gave Severus and me a second chance, maybe you'll get one, too."

The red-eyed man sent him a pensive look which Lucius returned evenly: "You really do like him, don't you, Lucius?"

"Yes, Mylord, I came to care for him very much and I'd hate to see him unhappy", fierce protection shone briefly in his grey eyes, "I know you longer than most of the other Death Eaters and I like to think that you're not all evil. I'm positive that if someone can make you happy, it'll be Harry Potter. I just hope that you can make him happy as well, Mylord."

"Lucius", Voldemort stood and prepared to leave, "He doesn't need me to be happy."

"And that is where I think you're wrong, Mylord", added the blond softly, after the door had already closed behind the Dark Lord.

**

* * *

****(1)It means: You're either betrayed, or you betray. It's not from me, but from a Roman philosopher or orator or something, I forgot his name, but it's not mine.**

**Review? Please? Pretty please?**


	13. Happy Birthday

**Disclaimer: I don't own the the Harry Potter characters...**

**Author's Note: So here's the next chappie. Let's all sing "Happy Birthday" for our dear birthday-boy: One, two, three... Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday, dear Harry, Happy Birthday to you. Oh, guys, I'm a bit disappointed, I didn't hear anything from you. Once again: One, two, three... Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday, dear Harry, Happy Birthday to you. Better, I think we'll leave it at that, but you should really think about it. Did any of you get Harry a present? NO? Then what are you doing here? It's his birthday! What would you think if no-one brought you a present, well? And Harry has a low enough self-esteem as it is. Off you go, get him a present...**

**Oh, here you are again and I see presents and a cake, well that's better. I think you can go in now, but shh, he's still sleeping...**

**emphasis**

_thoughts/ articles/ letters_

"speech"

* * *

**13. HAPPY BIRTHDAY**

Malfoys are always presentable, unreachable and high above everyone else- that is, unless they just woke up to a chorus of Happy Birthdays when it wasn't their birthday.

"Huh?", they weren't very eloquent in this case, either, "What are you all doing here?"

From Draco's point of view this was certainly a legitimate question, seeing as every current inhabitant of Malfoy Manor was assembled in his bedroom with a birthday cake and a lot of presents, while the birthday child was nowhere to be seen.

"Well, we were looking for Harry, but he doesn't seem to be here", Lucius explained and couldn't help but smirk slightly, when he saw his son with rumpled hair and confusion written all over his face.

Draco dragged his hand through his hair and tried to process this new information. _Harry wasn't here?_ But he was pretty sure he had been here yesterday and he couldn't remember him going somewhere else.

"Actually, he is here", Simon interrupted his train of thought and motioned toward a small bump near the end of the bed.

Draco flapped back the blanket, thus revealing Harry, who was curled into a tight little ball: "Morning", he mumbled and peered at them through his fingers, "Where did the blanket go to?"

"Happy Birthday, Scrawny", Dudley exclaimed enthusiastically and jumped onto the bed giving him a hug, "Get up, wake up, you wouldn't want to oversleep on your birthday, would you?"

"Don't want to", the green-eyed wizard whined, "Give me back my blanket and let me sleep!"

With that he crawled over to Draco, who was still in the possession of the green blanket, snatched it back and buried his head under one of the green pillows. Dudley looked really put out by this.

"He isn't much of a morning person, is he?", the blond Malfoy heir inquired and went to the bathroom to make himself presentable.

"Wait", Simon extended his arm and stopped Sirius, who had wanted to wake his godson, then the empath sat down next to the curled up boy, "It's time to face the day, sunshine", he whispered into his ear, "You have them quite worried with your current behaviour and if you don't get up before I have counted to ten, I'll drop a bucket of cold water on your head."

Simon moved back to give him some space and quietly counted to ten: "...nine, ten."

"Your so dead!", something growled under the blanket, before the unruly black head of Harry appeared.

"Wow", Draco drawled after reappearing from the bathroom fully dressed and with perfectly styled hair, "I just realised that you **do** brush your hair."

"Of course, I do", Harry answered indignantly and turned his focus to the blond, "It just doesn't help much."

"Anyway, now that you're awake", Sirius laughed, "You have presents waiting for you."

"I want to give you mine first", Dudley demanded and handed him a square, brightly wrapped present.

"What about the cake?", Harry asked, "I thought the cake was your present."

"That too", Dudley agreed, "Now open it!"

It turned out that the Muggle had no idea how to wrap a present and had used more adhesive tape than wrapping paper, which made unwrapping it a tad bit difficult. Finally Harry held a wooden picture frame in his small hands and in it there was a photograph of the two of them. It showed them laying in the park head to head, Dudley with a huge smile on his face, one of his hands playing with a strand of Harry's black hair, the other supporting his stomach. Harry had his eyes closed and looked utterly relaxed, his lips were quirked slightly, as if he was trying not to laugh.

"Who took this photo?", Harry asked, still looking fascinated at it.

"Oh, Janine", murmured Dudley, "She thought we looked cute. Do you like it?"

"I love it", the small boy corrected and hugged him tightly, "Thank you so much."

"Can I have a look at it?", Sirius asked gently.

"They don't move", Lucius, who had looked over Sirius' shoulder, deadpanned and earned two weird looks from Simon and Dudley.

"Muggle photos don't move, Lucius", Harry explained patiently, "Don't you know anything about Muggles?"

"I know that I don't want to know them", Lucius retorted haughtily, "And Severus isn't much better."

"I knew that Muggle photos don't move", Severus contradicted, "And I read their newspapers!"

"We're all proud of you, Sn...ape", Sirius teased "But we're trying to celebrate Harry's birthday, so if the two of you want to establish who knows more about Muggles, how about you do it outside? Meanwhile I will give him his present, okay?"

The two Slytherins sneered at he Animagus, but otherwise kept quiet and watched as he passed him a book-shaped present in Gryffindor colours.

"It's from Remus and me together", Sirius explained while Harry uncovered a shining new photo album, "When we fetched your things, we realised how few photos you have and we decided to make you an album."

"There aren't many photos of Lily in there, I'm afraid", Remus apologised, "We took a lot of photos of all the pranks we pulled at school, although we spared you the more vicious ones."

Harry slowed turned the first page to came face to face with his father with wind-blown hair, his arm slung lazily around Sirius' shoulders, who was successfully holding Remus in the photo. They were standing in front of the lake, in which from time to time a tentacle of the giant squid appeared, in their school uniforms and with Gryffindor ties (although Sirius' was undone and looked rather crumpled). Under it stood in Remus' neat hand writing: "Easter vacation, first year."

"Don't worry, not all the headings are this boring", reassured Sirius happily, "Remus just thought we should start with something... conservative."

"Thank you, this is great", he gave both of them hugs and a kiss to the cheek.

"I would like to seize the opportunity while you haven't seen any embarrassing photographs of me yet to hand you my present", Severus seemed really eager to distance the boy from the album.

"You got me a present?", the young wizard asked incredulously, cocking his head slightly to the right, as if a different perspective would make this more plausible.

The Potion's Master looked decidedly uncomfortable now and wordlessly gave him his present, which consisted- who would have thought- of several small potions bottles with labels telling what they were supposed to do.

"Those are some healing potions since you constantly seem to be in need of them", Severus explained, barely restraining himself from shuffling his feet and all together acting like an embarrassed teenager, "And then there are some potions which should help you escape... tight situation, should your sheer luck fail somewhere along the way", he had added the last part in hopes of making him angry with him so that Harry wouldn't notice that he had tried to do something nice for him and would possibly forget that he had got him something in the first place, but luck didn't appear to be on his side and Harry hugged him, anyway, murmuring into his chest how grateful he was over and over again (and to be honest it didn't feel bad, weird and foreign but not bad).

Lucius, who both saw the discomfort of Severus and the Dark Lord getting impatient, chose to interrupt the Gryffindor's open display of gratitude and affection, before something happened that would ruin Harry's birthday: "Harry, Narcissa and I also have something for you. Happy Birthday!"

It was quite strange to say those words to someone other than his family, since most of his friends namely Severus would strangle him, if such words would pass his lips, thinking him an impostor. His business associates usually received a card or flowers or something equally as impersonal. To say those words to one of his fellow Death Eaters or the Dark Lord himself was one of the most reliable ways to commit suicide and he didn't know most of their birthday dates, anyway.

Harry disentangled himself from the Potion's Master and looked about ready to repeat his sermon about how they shouldn't have got anything for him and how this wasn't necessary, when Narcissa extracted a fluffy white teddy from behind her back and handed it over to the fragile-looking boy: "You should have received this a long time a go", the blonde woman explained, smiling a bit sadly, "We bought this for the day, when Sirius became officially your godfather. Lucius and I were invited, since I'm Sirius cousin and since your parents came to Draco's one as well. However, when your parents went into hiding, everyone was uninvited and no owl could reach them."

"One of the house-elves found it, when they were cleaning out the west-wing and we thought you might like it", added Lucius, "Of course we realise that you're little old for teddy-bears, but we decided it was a nice gesture nonetheless."

"Would you care to explain why there's a key hanging around his neck", asked Harry confusedly, "And I like him very much, thank you."

"It's the key to the west-wing and a Portkey to the manor", Lucius provided and at Harry's startled gasp he continued, "We all agreed", he motioned from himself to his wife and son and back to himself, "That you will always be welcome here and since the west-wing accepted you, which didn't occur in quite some time, I might add, we want you to consider this your home", he didn't have to add that the Dursleys' residence could hardly be considered his home.

"Really?", Harry's voice was but a whisper and he looked, as if he would shatter should this turn out to be a joke.

But Lucius nodded and Narcissa smiled encouragingly at him: "It is like Lucius said, dear, you will always be welcome here."

The dark-haired boy threw his arms around the blonde, who pulled him closer, making sure no-one would see the tears that she could feel wetting her blouse: "Shh, dear, you don't have to cry. We'll look out for you and protect you, dear, nothing bad will happen to you while you're here..."

She carefully carded her fingers through his unruly hair, astounded at how silky and soft it felt to the touch. The regal woman didn't know what it was with this boy, but he somehow woke a maternal instinct in her, she didn't know she even possessed. Sure, she had a son and she loved him dearly, but Draco was so much like his father that she sometimes wondered, if her upbringing had fruited even just a little bit. And Draco hadn't cried since he was seven or eight. She had always wished for another child that was more like herself, but Malfoys traditionally only had one child, unless of course the first-born was a girl, which she had hoped for. Although Draco was only half a year older than the Gryffindor, Harry emitted an air of helplessness at the moment that made her want to protect him.

Harry seemed to be soothed by Narcissa's attention and finally pulled back with a watery smile on his face and uttered a quiet "Thank you", before he moved to give Lucius a hug, too.

The small boy smiled at him gratefully and then looked down at the teddy in his arm: "I really like him, Lucius, thanks."

"When did you decide it was male", the blond Death-Eater implored, keen to ease the sombre mood a little.

"Didn't you know, Lucius?", Harry asked fake-seriously with huge emerald eyes, as if it was unheard of, "All teddies are male with the exception of pink ones or the ones who have anything heart-shaped or bow-like on them."

"I'll keep that in mind, the keyword to activate the Portkey is 'Haven', by the way", Lucius drawled and accepted a second short hug and a kiss to the cheek; he almost missed the much quieter "Thank you" whispered in his ear.

The dark-haired boy pulled back and turned to Draco to thank him properly for giving him access to his home, Draco however warded him off: "Stop! I've something else for you and I think I'd rather put the two hugs together to have one long one!"

Harry chuckled and accepted the fairly huge parcel with a Slytherin green bow. The present felt soft and squashy.

"Are you always this slow when opening presents?", Draco asked impatiently.

The black-haired boy smiled apologetically, before furrowing his brow: "Wait a minute! Did you do something to this?"

"What? No!", the blond exclaimed shocked and made denying gestures with his hands.

_This is definitely not good_, concluded Draco as he tossed him the parcel: "Well, then you will have no problem opening it..."

"I can't open your birthday presents", he tried to refuse, but Harry wouldn't listen and just stubbornly crossed his arms over his chest, raising one brow expectantly.

The Slytherin willy-nilly had to unwrap the present himself and had to endure the consequences. It was nothing bad really, after all it was Harry's birthday and he did kind of like him and they had just declared their friendship, but the stealing of his roll also called for revenge. Of course the plan wasn't that he would suffer his own revenge, though no-one could have foreseen that he would demand he open the present. It was not fair! Why was he the one sporting an unhealthy pale green with violent orange dots, pointed ears and a pig nose? His thoughts of the unfairness of this all were interrupted by peals of laughter and in an attempt to keep at least a little of his dignity intact he tossed his present back at the laughing boy, hitting him in the head. As if on instinct Harry curled up tightly, covering his head with his hands and stopped laughing immediately. No-one but Draco noticed this curious behaviour, since the others were too into making fun of Draco or trying to prevent bursting out laughing again.

"Here you have your stupid present", Draco said, acting, as if he hadn't noticed the sudden change and covered him with the blanket, "Happy now?"

"Over the moon", came the reply with a bit of retardation and Harry's head appeared from under the black velvety tissue, "What is this, anyway?"

"A blanket", Draco sighed dramatically, holding it out so that he could see the Gryffindor lion with the Slytherin snake under one pawn and the bolt letters saying "Potter for President", "I thought that much was obvious."

"Did Dean draw this?", he asked interestedly indicating the lion.

"How should I know? I can tell you however that it was once one of those hilarious Quidditch posters, your house seems to be so awfully fond of", the blond drawled, "I sort of confiscated it in second year after the first match. The plan was to make a nice little bonfire with it to vent of some anger, but **someone** put a protecting charm on it, which prevented that, too. Whatever, I thought you'd enjoy the view of it more than I do, so can I have my hug now?"

"As much as I like it, Draco", he said calmly, "I'm not going anywhere near you while you're looking like this."

"But that's not fair", Draco argued all but stomping his foot.

"That's the concept of life, Draco, you better get used to it", the green-eyed wizard deadpanned evenly.

"But... Mum", the blond turned pleading eyes on his mother, who couldn't resist (her maternal instincts still working with full speed) and turned him back to normal.

A truly menacing smirk spread over Draco's pale features as he turned slowly to the boy-who-lived, who was currently conversing with his godfather and the empath, before he darted forward and hugged him from behind, which emitted a rather undignified squeak from him. He let the smaller boy down briefly just to turn him around and hug him again, lifting him off his feet. Harry stared at him with big fearful green eyes and the Malfoy heir thought briefly that maybe he had gone too far, but then Harry relaxed and smiled at him.

"See, I get my hug", Draco declared triumphantly and swirled him around, "And I'll beat you at Quidditch this year!"

"Dream on", he laughed outwardly, "You didn't catch the Snitch even once, though you were the best I ever played against, if it consoles you. Well, with the exception of Victor, of course!"

"Oh, you're so modest", Draco teased, still not letting him down, "And which Victor are you talking about? Is he one of your little friends from that land, commonly known as Fantasy Island?"

"Victor Krum", he informed him and Draco nearly gaped, "We played against each other once or twice, because he had a crush on Hermione"

"Who won?", Sirius asked curiously, remembering how often he had read that name in the newspapers during that year.

"Mostly I", confessed Harry, "Although I think he let me win most of the time. Oh, now I finally figured it out", he turned back to face the blond Slytherin, "You let me win all those games and now you're eventually going to try in earnest. I have no doubt you'll catch the Snitch next time, o great Seeker", he patted his head mockingly.

"Ha, ha, funny, Scarhead, really", the blond said, rearranging the slender legs so that they were wrapped around his waist, "I'm going to play chaser this year, since I actually grew, while you're still the little midget you were with eleven."

"Oh, you're so mean", the boy whined, who sure enough hadn't grown much, "And it's my birthday!"

"Well, you haven't thanked me for your present yet", Draco retorted and swirled him around once more, "That's rather rude, don't you think?"

"Lucius, your son is mean to me", Harry pouted, ignoring Draco's statement completely, "And he's always swirling me around!"

"Let him down, Draco", ordered Lucius, "You don't want him to get sick on your carpet."

The Malfoy heir complied immediately and dropped Harry rather unceremously to the floor: "You're right, Dad. And I don't need your 'Thank you' anyway, Potter."

"Oh, poor Draco", the black-haired boy teased and threw his arms around the blond's midsection, "I'll thank you nonetheless. Thank you, Draco, you're by far my favourite Slytherin."

"I would certainly hope so", the Malfoy heir retorted with a smug grin and blushed a little, when Harry kissed his cheek, "Happy Birthday, Harry", he added much quieter.

"Here, Harry", Simon said, as soon as the two Hogwarts students parted and put a brown cardboard box on the bed, "Happy Birthday."

The black-haired boy jumped on the bed and peered into the box, spotting three folders. He hauled out one of them, coming to face papers full of equations, graphs and arithmetics.

"Those are my notes of maths, chemistry and biology", Simon explained and sat next to the small boy, "I asked my teachers to check them and then I copied some of the assignments from my school books and the corresponding solution from the teacher's book."

"Oh, thank you", Harry hugged the empath tightly.

The others looked rather confused: "What is Harry supposed to do with those notes?", asked Dudley, "I thought you learn magic in this school of yours and not this stuff we're to learn."

"Back-up plan", Harry murmured absent-mindedly, browsing through the second folder, "I learn 'this stuff' because they don't teach it in Hogwarts and I don't want to drop behind."

"It wouldn't matter if you did, would it?", inquired Draco, "Since you'll have a complete magical education once you graduate from Hogwarts."

Harry sighed heavily, turning around to face them: "I didn't plan to stay in the magical world once I graduated, so I would need my Muggle education more than the magical one."

"Why didn't you want to stay here?", Voldemort demanded, speaking up for the first time.

"Because I wanted a normal life without reporters hounding me and people expecting me to murder someone", the green-eyed wizard said bitterly, "But that's superfluous now, anyway."

There was an uncomfortable silence, while Simon wrapped his arm around the delicate shoulders beside him.

"But why are you only learning maths, chemistry and biology", Dudley wanted to know cautiously, "You always had the best marks in those subjects."

Harry laughed softly: "Only because Simon tutored me."

"You're planning to become a teacher or something?", Sirius asked, "Because it started with Remus the same way."

Remus punched the Animagus, while Simon nodded, smiling gently: "Indeed. My mum wants me to be a psychologist, like she is, but I'd rather work with children, because they're not so negative, yet."

"And what did you want to be, Harry", asked Severus, "Because Minerva was threatening me so that you would get into my advanced Potion's class by all means and she thought you wanted to be an Auror."

"No, I never wanted that", Harry shook his head vehemently, "I have no desire to hunt down criminals."

"And what do you want to be?", Draco asked impatiently.

"I'd rather not tell, Draco", Harry looked down on his folded hands in his lap, "And now I'll go and get dressed, thanks for all the presents."

"Actually, I have something for you, too", Voldemort stopped him and the Gryffindor cocked his head surprised, when the Dark Lord handed him a rolled up Daily Prophet and an official looking envelope.

Sirius Black found innocent 

_Last night Peter Pettigrew, up until now assumed dead, confessed the crimes for which Sirius Black was arrested fifteen years ago. _

_Lifelong, that's what everyone agreed was a suitable punishment for being a Death Eater, murdering 13 Muggles and one wizard and betraying their best-friends leading to their deaths. No trial needed, after all the Wizarding World had other problems at the time. So the sole heir of the Black fortune was shipped of to Azkaban never to return again. Then three years ago, Mr. Black managed the impossible and broke out from the Dementor-guarded prison, stampeding the Wizarding World. "He's in Hogwarts", those words reported the Dementors to the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, and what would be more obvious than that Sirius Black was referring to Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, his own godson? So they reinforced the safety precautions around Hogwarts even going so far as to let Dementors guard the gates. They looked for him everywhere: Aurors, Dementors and even some simple ministry employees. But once again Mr. Black proved himself extraordinary and couldn't be found- luckily or the Dementors would have had permission to kiss him, a fate worse than death. But then, when Mr. Black for the first time in twelve years met his godson again, his luck ran out and he was locked in the Charms professor's office, waiting for the Dementors, even though Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, one of his best-friends, claimed to have seen Peter Pettigrew. What then happened no-one appears to know, but Sirius Black escaped once again and seemingly disappeared..._

_And now, 15 years after the actual crime, everything is brought to light: Not Sirius Black committed all those crimes, no Peter Pettigrew, one of James Potter's oldest friends, was made Secret Keeper and sold the Potters out to He-who-must-not-be-named, transferring the guilt on his other friend Sirius Black, faking his own death after murdering 13 Muggles:_

_Minutes before the stroke of midnight, the alarms went off in the Ministry of Magic and when the Aurors, one Nymphadora Tonks, who happens to be related to Sirius Black, and Kingsley Shacklebolt, arrived in the Atrium, they found a bound and gagged Peter Pettigrew with the exposed Dark Mark on his left forearm, his right hand silver and artificial, small, fat and almost completely bald, but seemingly unharmed. He was led to the examination room and two and a half hours later he signed the protocol, in which he confesses everything- apparently he had been slipped some Veritaserum. _

_The Wizengamot was called immediately and the most esteemed members of the society arrived gradually, some still in their pyjamas. After a rather short discussion, Sirius Black in absentia was found innocent of all crimes with only one dissenting vote, while Peter Pettigrew was convicted to receive the Dementor's kiss unanimously._

_For the interview with Cornelius Fudge turn to page 6._

_To read the comments of Ministry employees and members of the Wizengamot turn to page 5._

_For more information on the relation between Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew and the Potters turn to page 4._

_To read the official apology of the Ministry of Magic to Sirius Black turn to page 2._

Rita Skeeter 

The story was printed on the front page with a moving picture of a struggling Peter Pettigrew and the same picture of Harry's godfather, they had shown three years ago. The black-haired boy's hands shook as he opened the envelope.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_a reliable source informed us that you might know the whereabouts of your godfather Sirius Orion Black, who was declared innocent this morning due to new evidence. The Ministry of Magic apologises for his imprisonment in Azkaban and wishes to express its sincerest dismay for this. Sirius Black is hereby cleared of all charges. We'd be very beholden if you could relay this information to him. _

_Sincerely Amelia Bones, Head of Magical Law Enforcement_

When Harry had read through all of this he jumped into Sirius' arms, who barely caught him: "Look at this, Siri", tears of happiness ran down his pale cheeks, "You're free. Look at this!"

Remus, who had picked up the letter and scanned it, answered Sirius' confused look: "They caught Pettigrew and he admitted everything."

The Animagus closed his eyes briefly and buried his face in the unruly mop of black hair, hugging his godson tighter, when he looked up again a huge smile stretched over his face: "I'm really free? I'm really free! I can go out there and they won't arrest me on sight and I can walk into a shop and buy whatever I want and I can eat dinner at a restaurant and I can get a job and I can... do everything."

"Yes, Siri", Harry chuckled, kissing his nose lightly, "You can do all that."

"I know what we'll do", the ex-convict exclaimed happily, "We'll go to Diagon Alley and I'll buy you lots of presents and then we'll go have lunch somewhere and then we'll do everything you want to... This will be the best birthday you ever had, Harry."

"It already is, Siri", corrected Harry, "And I want you to do something else", he moved over to Remus, tugging on his sleeve, until he lowered his head so that Harry could whisper in his ear, "I want you to take Sirius everywhere he wants to go and when he's finally tired of dragging you around I want you to take him to the most romantic restaurant, you know, and I want you to make this the best day of his life."

"But Harry, this is your birthday, are you sure you want this?", argued Remus.

"Yes, absolutely", he smiled up at the werewolf, "I couldn't leave Dudley and Simon here all alone, anyway."

Remus nodded understandingly, before a mischievously glint appeared in his eyes: "Your wish is my command. Paddy, we're going."

"But...", the Animagus protested weakly however unsuccessfully.

"Go, Siri", Harry urged him, "I want you to get out and since I can't go with you today, Remus will do the job of making you happy. Here you take the Portkey, if you should get into trouble, okay?", he pressed the little silver key into his hands, gently pushing him out of the room, "Be safe and have fun."

The door closed with a small 'click' behind the two ex-Gryffindors and Harry searched the room with his eyes, till they landed on the Dark Lord, he moved cautiously towards him, reducing the distance between them with every small step. Eventually they stood only centimetres from each other and Harry reached out to hug the most evil Dark Lord, giving him enough time to draw back. But Voldemort didn't, he just locked eyes with the small Gryffindor, trying to find out if something in his feelings towards him at changed: "Thank you", Harry whispered and closed the last gap between them, wrapping his slim arms around Voldemort's back, hiding his face in the black robes, making it difficult to understand him, "Sirius really means a lot to me, thank you for making him happy."

"It is part of the contract, in any event", answered Voldemort, but carefully embraced the petite body of the Gryffindor- his Gryffindor, "I just accelerated things a little."

"Still", argued Harry, "You did something nice for me."

The black-haired beauty smiled gratefully at the much taller red-eyed man and, standing on his tip-toes, briefly pressed his lips to the Dark Lord's cheek: "How about breakfast now? I'm going to get dressed", with that said he disengaged himself from Voldemort's arms and left the room.

The others shortly after went down to the breakfast parlour and Lucius smirked triumphantly, when he saw the Dark Lord disappear in the direction of the west-wing.

* * *

**You know what to do...**


	14. Walk and Talk

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

**Author's Note: After I had to read a whole book with absolutely pointless stories, which somehow always end with someone's or other's death, and had to talk about what I read in two equally pointless English lessons, because my teacher thinks, I'm not bored by his lesson, but only too shy to say something and therefor sees it as his duty to make me speak more, I'm now finally able to post the next chapter. And I can assure you that no-one will die in this chapter... Well anyway, hope you enjoy.**

**And if anyone is interested, how I have this story outlined it will have about 40 chapters, but as I tend to write chapters longer than I planned to, it will most likely be about 50 chapters. So there will be a lot to read for you and a lot for me to write, but no need to worry, because I will finish, no matter what.**

**emphasis**

_thoughts_

"speech"

**

* * *

****14. WALK AND TALK**

Harry felt amazingly good and couldn't stop smiling, while he got dressed. His hair was as unruly as ever and he still looked like a small thirteen year-old and his glasses were ugly like always, but for the first time in a long while he actually smiled at his reflection and chuckled about the mirror's comments ("Oh, deary, you looked absolutely adorable, but maybe you should head down for breakfast and get a good meal down into your stomach."). He dressed in one of his new outfits and although his jeans still looked a little baggy and his tee-shirt showed more of his body than he would have liked, he didn't have to fear to lose his clothes, which added to his good mood.

"Harry", Voldemort called softly, when he saw his soon-to-be husband quit his rooms and the dark-haired boy swivelled around, looking for the speaker.

"You startled me", he reprimanded, when he spotted Voldemort moving toward him, "Was there something you needed?"

Though his voice was still very formal and distanced, the Dark Lord noticed that the green-eyed wizard held more affection and less mistrust in it.

"I wanted to ask you something", Voldemort explained, falling in step beside the boy and leading him slowly to the breakfast room, "Since we're going to marry soon, I was wondering if maybe you would take a walk with me so that we could get to know each other a little better. I promise that you'll be safe."

"You want to get to know me?", Harry asked surprised, looking up at him.

"Yes, we're going to spent the rest of our lives together and I think it would make everything easier, if we would at least get along", the Dark Lord confirmed, "I realise that the situation is more difficult for you, because you haven't had as much time to get used to the idea. If you give me a chance, I would like to find out why Severus and Lucius came to care for you in such a short time."

The petite wizard looked pensive for a moment and tried to hide his blush at Voldemort's last words: "Okay", he finally said, smiling uncertainly, "I guess you're right."

"It is my understanding that you don't want to leave your two friends alone for an extended period of time", the dark-haired man returned, "So maybe you should set a date. I'm sure I can arrange my appointments so that I'll have time for you."

"In all honesty, I only said that because I wanted Remus and Sirius to spent some time together", Harry confessed, looking guilty, "Simon is leaving today, because his dad goes crazy if he's the only one Simon's mum is trying to analyse. And Dudley convinced Draco to show him how to play Quidditch, so if you want to do this today, it's alright with me."

"Isn't Mr. Turner staying for your wedding?", Voldemort asked perplexed.

"The wedding is in three days, correct?", Harry asked back, "Simon will come back for the wedding."

"Good, that means we can take this walk after we had breakfast?", the red-eyed man said; he had meant to sound commanding, but it came out more like a question.

"Yes, do you want some of my cake?", Harry offered, as they entered the parlour and took their seats.

"No, thank you, I'll stick to my cheese sandwiches", Voldemort replied doing just that.

"Suit yourself", Harry shrugged and accepted the piece of cake Dudley offered him, "Draco, can you keep Dudley occupied for a while after breakfast? You wanted to tell him about Quidditch, anyway, didn't you?"

"Yes, sure", Draco agreed, "Care to tell me why you won't join us?"

"Voldemort and I will take a walk", the green-eyed boy mumbled embarrassedly, looking down on his plate.

Draco reached for his small hand under the table, squeezing it encouragingly until Harry looked up into his grey eyes: "That's okay, Harry. Maybe you can join us later? Blaise, Ted and Pansy wanted to come by sometime this afternoon and they also want to make your acquaintance."

"I'd like that", the Gryffindor accepted softly and took a sip of Draco's orange juice.

The four boys ate in silence, while the adults led a conversation of their own. Finally they had all finished their breakfast and Simon said his good-byes, hugging his green-eyed friend tightly and disappeared through the fireplace, after Harry had given him some Floo Powder so that he would be able to come back for the wedding. Narcissa and Lucius excused themselves shortly after. Lucius, because he had "work" to do at the ministry and Narcissa, because Voldemort had charged her with the organisation of the wedding. Dudley and Draco went out to the Quidditch Pitch, already talking animatedly about sports in general and Quidditch in particular. And Severus disappeared into his lab to make some healing potions to restock the infirmary.

"So", Harry said just to say something, "Should we go?"

Voldemort nodded and guided them through Malfoy Manor to the park. They walked in silence for a while and it was not a comfortable silence, more like a very strained one and the Dark Lord noticed that his young fiancé seemed to tense up with every heartbeat. But he just didn't know how to start without sounding like a lovesick teen or a stuttering idiot.

"Is there something you would like to know about me, Voldemort?", the small Gryffindor asked tentatively, looking up with wide green eyes.

"Tom", the Dark Lord corrected on a gut level and when Harry just looked confused he elaborated, "Call me Tom, we're going to be married soon", it was really amazing how often he had used this argument today: They should talk, because they were going to get married; He found Harry attractive, but that was okay, because they were going to get married; He loved how Harry's eyes lit up every time he received a present, but that was alright, because they were going to get married; He felt jealousy course through him every time the small Gryffindor hugged someone or even kissed them, but that, too, was justified, because they were going to get married; and now he was allowed to call him by his given name, because they were going to get married.

"Tom", the green-eyed wizard relented, "Do you want to ask me something?"

"I have quite a lot of questions, actually", the Dark Lord smirked, looking down at the raven-haired boy beside him, "Are you ready for them?"

Harry just smiled shyly up at him and waited for the first question.

"Why did you agree to marry me?", Voldemort asked curiously.

"Didn't you expect me, too?", Harry returned, kicking a stone out of his way.

"I expected Dumbledore to persuade you into accepting, but my Death Eaters told me that you accepted on your own accord", the Dark Lord clarified, "So I'm wondering why."

"I just didn't want more people to die", Harry murmured, "And I... I didn't want to kill anyone, even if they were the cause of so much pain and death."

"You don't want to avenge your parents?", Tom lifted one black eyebrow.

The green-eyed wizard wrapped his arms around himself, shivering as if he was cold: "I... Can we not talk about this, Tom, please?", he finally whispered his eyes going impossible wide.

It was okay that he couldn't withstand those pleading eyes, because they were going to get married: "Okay, I'll ask you something else: Why are you obviously friends with your cousin, when he used to beat you up?"

"When we were younger, Dudley adored his father and wanted to be just like him, which he was on the right path to, but then one year or so ago, he came to see a side to his father that made him realise that he didn't want to turn into a carbon copy of him", Harry said careful not to tell too much, "He apologised and asked me for a second chance, which I granted him under the condition that he would never beat anyone up again. Everyone deserves a second chance."

"Everyone?", Voldemort demanded.

"Yes, if I do something wrong, I want people to give me a chance to make it right again, too", the dark-haired boy stated convincedly.

"Severus, Lucius, Draco they all get a second chance?", the Dark Lord asked, whilst they crossed a small bridge.

"Draco gave me a second chance", Harry corrected seriously, "And I can understand why Severus acted the way he did, but I guess you could say that this is Lucius' second chance."

"What is it with you and Dumbledore?", the tall man inquired, remembering the scene in the infirmary.

Harry debated a moment, if he really should spill all his secrets to Voldemort, but then decided that he wanted to trust him at least a little and would start now: "Last year, Severus tried to teach me Occlumency so that I would be able to block the visions you sent me. As you know I wasn't very successful. However, I learned to notice at least, when someone was messing with my mind. Dumbledore obviously didn't know this, for he invaded my mind after the incident in the Department of Mysteries. He most likely wanted to know how I felt about the prophesy- which I won't tell you so forget it- and that Sirius was supposedly dead. But he didn't find this, but something I have kept a secret for a long time. I said that I would give everyone a second chance and I did, but Dumbledore should have done something with the knowledge of what he found out, which he didn't. Maybe I should have told him this specific detail of my life, like he should have done with the prophesy, but I didn't, because I was afraid he wouldn't do anything. And I can forgive him that he didn't do anything about it, while he couldn't be sure about it. But after he invaded my mind he knew it for sure and he should have done something about it. That is why I don't trust him anymore."

"So, Dumbledore used Leglimency on you, finding out something you didn't want him to know and he should have helped you in one way or another, but he failed you once again because he didn't", Tom summarised and Harry nodded affirmatively, "I assume you don't want to tell me what he found out, right?"

"Yes", the green-eyed wizard agreed again, looking uncomfortable, "It has nothing to do with you- well, a little- but I only ever told it one person, please, can you understand this, Tom?"

"I didn't expect you to, like I didn't expect you to tell me the prophesy", Voldemort reassured him.

"I don't think the prophesy is too important, anyway", Harry shrugged his shoulders slightly, "I mean, if you hadn't heard a part of the prophesy, you wouldn't have gone after me and my parents, would you? And therefor the killing curse wouldn't have backfired on you. What good does a prophesy do, when it is the cause of the events to happen?"

Tom's lips lifted a little bit, as he answered: "That sure makes sense. What about we ignore the prophesy completely and wait what happens without its interference?"

"Sounds like a plan", a smiling Harry agreed, "Apropos, may I ask you something?"

"Of course", Voldemort accepted with a warm light in his eyes, as he looked at the little Gryffindor.

"Lucius already tried to explain it to me, but I'm not sure I understood everything, so I'd rather you tell me yourself why you do this?", the black-haired boy asked in a ramble.

They were now passing through a fruit orchard, with apple, pear, cherry and peach trees, which all carried their delicious loads.

"After I graduated from Hogwarts I was set to destroy all those Muggles and to make them suffer for all the things that went wrong in my life, but I didn't plan to do it quite this illegal. I started a lot of petitions and even had a job in the Ministry, however when success failed to make an appearance, I delved into the Dark Arts in hopes of finding a faster way. I now came to realise that this way isn't at all faster or more effective. I have the most influential families as my followers, but making them criminals isn't the best idea to ensure their social status. Lucius told me that he explained to you what effects the contract will hopefully have on the general opinion of the Wizarding World", Voldemort explained carefully observing his groom.

Harry stopped abruptly and stared up at the taller man: "Are you still planning to kill all the Muggles, Voldemort?", his tone was icy as were his eyes, "Because if you are I'm going to kill you no matter the consequences."

"No", Tom said surprisingly gentle, "I won't force you to do that. I still don't like Muggles, but seeing as some of the most brilliant witches and wizards I know are Muggleborns or Halfbloods, I changed my plans. I don't like how the Ministry is run these days and I will influence them so that their politic will meet up to my expectations, but I promise you that I won't murder anyone, Harry."

The smaller wizard looked up hopefully, his eyes brighter than usual, before cautiously tugging on Tom's hand, smiling shyly up at him: "That's good. Can we sit down for a moment?"

The Dark Lord led his smaller companion into the shadow of an apple tree and covered the ground with his outer robe for them to sit on. Harry sat down next to him leaning his back against the tree trunk, not near enough to touch the dark wizard, though definitely closer than you normally would with a potential enemy.

"We should also discuss which additional subjects you will take the following year", Tom started, once they were settled comfortably.

"Why do you want me to learn even more stuff, Tom?", Harry asked, fiddling with the hem of his tee-shirt, "Not that I'm averse to the idea, but we're still more or less on opposite sides. Isn't it kind of controversial to train your enemy?"

"You're no longer my enemy, Harry", the Dark Lord argued, taking one of Harry's pale hands, so that he stopped destroying his new clothes, "And besides that I don't like the notion of spending my life with a simpleton, I'm rather worried about your safety. I know that you're by no means helpless, but while I can guarantee for my Death Eaters I can't do so for the Light side and we have to reckon that some of them won't react positively to you being my spouse."

"And what would you suggest?", the black-haired boy returned, holding his hand perfectly still.

"Severus agreed to teaching you Occlumency and Leglimency again", the red-eyed wizard enumerated, "Rudolphus and Rabastan Lestrange will teach you how to defend yourself without magic- martial arts and I will help you become an Animagus and some **Light** defensive and offensive spells. If you want to do something else you have to tell me, so that I can find a suitable teacher."

"Madam Pomfrey said I could help her in the infirmary twice a week", Harry mumbled, looking up briefly, "I'd really like to accept that offer and learn something about healing..."

"Then you should do it", Tom squeezed the small hand in his, "Are you okay with everything else?"

"I'm okay with Severus and I guess I'm okay with you as my teacher, but if the Lestrange brothers are anything like Bellatrix I refuse to let them teach me", Harry replied.

Tom nearly smiled: "They aren't very similar in my opinion and if you should really despise them, I'll look for someone else", he stood up brushing off his clothes and held out one tanned hand for Harry to take, "Let's head back in, Harry."

It was okay that they were walking hand in hand in companionable silence and that he was enjoying it, Voldemort reasoned, because they were going to get married.

When they passed the Quidditch pitch there was an enthusiastic shout and Dudley Dursley landed rather ungracefully in front of them. You can't expect a Muggle to be a Quidditch professional after only a few hours, can you?

"Scrawny, Quidditch is great. I can even use a broom", the muscular blond exclaimed, "That's so much fun."

The petite dark-haired wizard smiled softly up at the other boy: "Could you give us a moment, Dudley", he asked, "I won't be long."

"Sure thing, but hurry, Draco's friends came by and now I think I finally understood all the rules, they suggest we play a little", urged Dudley and disappeared joining the other players.

"So, that means we'll be seeing each other in three days", Harry said shyly, turning back to the Dark Lord.

"Just one more question: Why did you never bother to fix your eyes?", Tom inquired, "It's just one simple spell."

"I didn't want to give the reporters another reason to write lengthy stories about me and what could be the cause of my new vanity", Harry sighed, shuffling his feet.

"Would you mind if I performed the spell?", the red-eyed wizard asked, "After all, they're going to write whole newspapers about our marriage, so now would be a good time."

The green-eyed boy lowered his head so that Tom couldn't see the hurt look in his eyes: "Okay", _so he thinks I'm ugly,_ Harry thought, _and who wouldn't think so?_ and waited till his vision became fuzzy, before he took off his glasses and spoke up again, "I'll see you in three days, Tom. Good Bye."

Voldemort still wondered what had brought on this sudden change- they had been relaxed, right? They had enjoyed each others company- as Harry had already joined the other youths and when he finally came back to the present, he had somehow apparated to his castle, making him kind of glad that at least he hadn't stood there staring dumbly after Harry. But he still didn't know what he had done wrong -not that he cared of course, he didn't, there was no reason at all to even think about Harry other than to find out how to benefit the most from this new situation. And why was it again that he couldn't stop thinking about huge green eyes, silky black hair and slim, tantalisingly swaying hips, he was sure he could easily encircle with his hands?... Oh, well, he was allowed to think like this, since they were going to be married soon...

* * *

**I actually cut this chapter into two, because it was just so long, so review, review, review and the next chapter will be there in no time...**


	15. Exception to the Rule

**Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling came up with the Harry Potter universe, so it's obviously not mine...**

**Author's Note: Wow! I'm getting more and more reviews with every chapter- not that I'm complaining, mind you #winkwink#, but it makes me so incredibly happy and motivated and enthusiastic and slightly hyper and giddy #lol#. Just wanted to thank all of you, this is great!**

**And if you were wondering about the title, I'm not really happpy with it, but since I cut the chapter into two, I didn't have a title for the second one. Of course you could always just call it "Walk and Talk (2)", but in this part there isn't much actual walking, so... Well anyway, enjoy!**

**emphasis**

_thoughts/flashbacks/ books_

"speech"

* * *

**15. EXCEPTION TO THE RULE**

Harry walked over to join his cousin and the Slytherins. His eyes were damp but he would ignore this for now and approached them with a small smile, tugging at his lips, when he saw Dudley hovering only one meter above he ground trying to keep his balance, while all four Slytherins made supposedly helpful comments.

"Hey, Scrawny", Dudley greeted him cheerfully, "Look at this, I can fly."

"Very impressive", the dark-haired boy teased, before turning to timidly greet Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini.

"No need to be shy", the dirty-blonde-haired girl reprimanded and threw one arm around the smaller boy's shoulders, who jerked a little, "Draco and we had a little talk and we agreed that with the right influence, which we will provide, we can make an honorary Slytherin out of you. What do you say?"

"It'll mean a lot of hard work for us", Blaise gave a long suffering sigh, "But we are willing to shoulder that burden, because we hope for a valuable addition to our house", he grinned, showing pearly white teeth and also threw an arm around Harry's shoulders.

"Translated into common English, they're asking to be friends with you", Dudley butted in, "Can you imagine Mum's face if she saw me flying on a broomstick?"

"So do you accept our offer?", Pansy asked once again and when Harry nodded shyly she squealed and hugged him, almost suffocating the poor boy, "And now we play Quidditch."

After a little to and fro they finally decided that Ted and Draco would be on one team, while Blaise and Harry would be the other team. They would all play Chaser and Seeker in one. Pansy agreed to be Keeper and Dudley was enthusiastic at being made Beater, of course aiming at both teams. They played for a little while, and Harry had to admit that Draco really was a damn good Chaser, though it was a tad difficult for him to concentrate on him, because he constantly had to watch over Dudley and keep him on his broom a couple of times. No-one was really surprised when Harry caught the Snitch in the course of a breathtaking stunt (he had to save Dudley once again) and their team won with 200 to 80, although Draco claimed it was only due to Dudley, who had done a good job at keeping the Bludgers away from Harry.

Since they had missed lunch, they all went to Draco's rooms and asked one of the house-elves to bring them something to eat, where they talked about school and teachers, Quidditch (Dudley's favourite topic) and even about their families.

Pansy had an older sister, who had graduated from Hogwarts two years ago and now worked as a real estate broker both for the Wizarding World and the Muggle World. Her parents had got divorced, when Pansy was only four and since then she lived with her mother, who earned her living by her small catering service. They were not as filthy rich as the Malfoys, but they had everything they needed and more.

Blaise's ancestors immigrated from Italy over two century ago, but you could still see their origin in their darker skin colour and dark hair. He was an only child like Draco and they had spent almost all their childhood together, often driving their parents insane. His mother worked as an Unspeakable, so nobody knew what she was doing all day, and his father managed their vast fortune.

Ted was after Harry the smallest (though he still towered over the Gryffindor) and had six-year old twin sisters. When he was younger he had been sick with a double pneumonia for over a year and since then his mother had been a **little** overprotective of him. His father was a lawyer and of course a Death Eater.

When the talk turned to Harry's family, he just said that he lived with his aunt and uncle and of course Dudley and that there was nothing to add. The others, except Dudley, didn't look too satisfied with this answer, after all they had all told one or two stories about their lives, but just as Pansy was about to open her mouth, there was a knock on the door and Sirius' head appeared in the opening.

"Hey there, am I interrupting something or can I come in for a moment?", he greeted, opening the door a little wider.

"Of course, come in", Harry beckoned, "Is everything alright? Where's Remus?"

"Everything is perfect", Sirius beamed, embracing his godson lightly, "This was the best day of my life. I just wanted to say thank you and find out how your day was. Remus is in our room", he grinned conspiratorially.

Harry stared at him for a moment, before he blushed and moaned: "I didn't need to hear this, Sirius. Bad mental image!"

"Hey, I resent that", Sirius whined, but he had a huge grin on his face, which Harry of course couldn't see, because he had his head buried in his arms, "If you think I'm so repulsive I'll be going now, unless there's anything you would want to tell me?"

"Three things, Siri", returned the black-haired young man, "First, you're impossible. Second, I don't think you're repulsive. And third, have fun, but I don't want to hear any details- at all."

Sirius laughingly left the room: "Okay, okay, I'll say hello to Remus from you- if I find the time."

Harry buried his head again and groaned: "Bad mental image! Bad mental image!"

"I don't know what got you so agitated", Pansy intervened, "I mean that guy surely is a hottie!"

"That's my godfather", Harry sighed, "And he's together with Professor Lupin. I just don't want to think about them having sex, they're as good as my parents."

They all looked pensive for a moment or two, before a look of realisation crossed their faces that quickly turned into one similar to Harry's.

Dudley winced, rubbing his temples: "Now, I have a bad mental image of my parents doing... **it**"

Harry paled drastically: "Shit, I'm going to be sick", he cursed, before he rushed to the bathroom.

It was strangely comforting to be hanging over the toilet and heaving up everything in his stomach. That's what he did every time his uncle had forced him to do... **it**- as Dudley had so eloquently put it. No, not sex. Sex was somehow easier to bear. Uncle Vernon just shoved him on his bed or pressed him against the wall and raped him from behind. He didn't need to see the hatred and lust on his uncle's face, or the way his cock twitched. He didn't need to see him at all and could pretend that it wasn't his uncle, just someone, maybe that drunk man who had stolen his innocence, it didn't matter, because it was not his uncle, not his family, because his family cared for him. Harry knew he was lying to himself.

There wasn't much he could throw up in his stomach, since he hadn't eaten all that much, because he was only slowly getting used to normal portions of food. But it made him feel better nevertheless.

He washed out his mouth and walked back into the other room, still looking as pale as a ghost.

"I'm sorry, Harry", Dudley cried, as soon as he spotted his cousin.

He moved to hug the smaller boy, but Harry shied away: "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine to me", Draco argued, looking concerned, "We heard you puking."

"Well, then we can be sure that your ears are working correctly", Harry said coldly (the hat had wanted him to go to Slytherin- he could pretend to be something, he wasn't without blinking an eye), "If you will excuse me."

"Scrawny", Dudley pleaded, when Harry had almost reached the door, "Stay, please? We won't pester you, promise, right, guys?"

The Slytherins nodded vigorously and Draco patted the space between himself and Blaise: "Come here, Harry. We promise to not make you puke again."

Harry hesitated a moment and then sat down, drawing his knees up against his chest and wrapping his arms around them: "I'm fine."

No-one said anything in return. Of course they didn't believe him- he didn't believe himself most of the time, so that was to be expected.

Mindful of Harry's earlier reaction, Draco slowly laid an arm around his small shoulders, pulling him closer, until Harry's head rested against his chest. The blond had his suspicions like most likely everyone in that room, but suspicions were not good enough, when confronting someone and if that someone was able to hide his emotions like a Slytherin, it made it even more difficult. It was kind of scary. He had seen Harry crying a lot of times this last few days and most of the time he seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve, however at times like just now or when he had greeted Voldemort, it was like Harry shut down all his feelings and became an emotionless shell. The blond guessed it was sort of a protective mechanism, so the question was only what the petite Gryffindor was so afraid of.

"May I ask you something, Harry?", Pansy inquired carefully and pulled Draco out of his musings, "It's quite personal, so if you don't want to answer I can understand."

"I think it would help me, if you could actually pose the question", Harry murmured, still with his head against the Ice Prince's chest.

"Well, we all know that you're going to marry the Dark Lord in two days", she started, sounding a bit nervous, "And I know that all of the Gryffindors think that you should only marry for love, so I was wondering, if you think that you will ever love him."

"The hat wanted to put me in Slytherin", Harry mumbled, skidding with his head down Draco's chest so that it now rested on his thigh.

"What was that?", Blaise demanded, "I didn't quite catch that."

"The hat wanted to put me in Slytherin", the green-eyed wizard repeated a tad bit louder, "I refused."

"You refused?", Ted checked, "You can't refuse the hat, it puts you where you belong."

"I didn't want to be in the same house as Draco", Harry confessed, "And Ron had told me that all the Dark Wizard once were in Slytherin, so I refused."

"I really made a bad impression on you, didn't I?", Draco asked rhetorically, carding his hands through Harry's thick hair.

"But you didn't answer my question", Pansy reminded, "Will you ever love the Dark Lord?"

"Not if it's avoidable", answered Harry and at the confused looks he received he added, "If I should fall in love with him, that would mean that I love him, but not that he loves me. I don't want to spent my life with someone who'll never return what I feel."

"So you'd rather spent the rest of your life with someone you hate?", Dudley asked incredulously, "You can't be serious!"

"I don't hate him", Harry protested, receiving more weird looks, "I hate Bellatrix Lestrange and Peter Pettigrew, not Tom. I hate what he does and what he did, but I think I can understand at least some of his motives."

"Tom?", all the Slytherins chorused.

"He said I could call him that", Harry mumbled, "I thought you wouldn't appreciate it, if I called him Voldemort", they all winced simultaneously, "See."

"So you'll keep your distance?", Pansy asked once again, "That could turn out to be difficult, since you have to have sex with him once a week."

"I know the conditions of the contract, Pansy, thanks", Harry pressed out, closing his eyes briefly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry", the witch apologised immediately, "I'm just trying to figure out the best way how to help you."

"At the moment I think it would help me immensely, if we could change the subject", Harry replied jokingly, "I'm doing a damn good job at replacing all thoughts, considering this marriage with thoughts of unicorns and rainbows. You should try it once in a while, it's really refreshing..."

"Oh, great, let's talk about Quidditch", Dudley exclaimed, ignoring the collective groans, "Is it true that Seekers get attacked the most?"

Ted was the only one who gave him a tired nod, but that didn't discourage him in the least and he chatted happily, till Draco interrupted him.

"What about we watch another film?", he suggested and everyone perked up, "You said you had some more."

It was a piece of work to convince Dudley, but eventually they all walked over to Harry's rooms, where Dudley's laptop was, and watched "Seven Years in Tibet". Of course, seeing as the film was slightly long and it was already past midnight, when they started it, no-one really saw the end and after half of it, everyone was fast asleep.

Well, everyone but Harry, who again wasn't tired enough to be forced to sleep. The night he had spent in Draco's bed had been bad enough to last him for a while. Harry didn't know how long he actually slept- maybe two hours, though he doubted that- but when he had woken up from a nightmare and found arms around himself he had panicked and tried to scramble away, silently begging to be let go, _don't let it happen again, not again, no Uncle Vernon, please. _Draco surely was a heavy sleeper. When he had finally freed himself and crawled to the other end of the bed, knowing from experience that escaping would only make it worse. He had buried his head in his hands and whimpered softly _not again, please, no, don't, let me go, I'll be good_. He had never said those words aloud, it was stupid, because, although he was trying to tell himself that he was preserving his pride and his dignity, he barely had any of it left, and the thoughts alone made him feel pathetic and worthless- a little whore, like his uncle always said. Maybe if he would beg, his uncle would stop, but that was just wishful thinking and Harry knew it. Harry knew quite a lot, he knew now that his uncle raped him and that his uncle wasn't allowed to do it, that it wasn't normal for children to be raped, like he had thought the first few years it happened. Good children get sweets, bad children get raped, it's an easy theory and he had clung to that notion for quite some time. Everything was so much easier to bear, if you thought you deserved it, if it was the way things were. He never really understood what was so bad about him and just figured he had been born this way- like some sheep were black and some were white. Now, he knew that he wasn't born to be raped and that Uncle Vernon was the one who did something wrong, however that just made him feel helpless and dirty. Before it had only hurt. Who could possibly love him? They all said they cared, but they didn't know the truth. Well, Severus did know, but that was different, because the Potion's Master thought him weak and how could a weak child possibly stand up to a fat Muggle? But Harry knew the truth, he wasn't weak, his powers rivalled Voldemort's and Dumbledore's, he should be able to defend himself against one Muggle. But he couldn't, because they were his family and who could possibly love him if not even his family could? So he endured it, slowly dying inside and begging silently. After what seemed like hours he had finally calmed down and curled up into a tight ball, hiding under the blanket.

And that's where the nightmares about Voldemort started. He had always had them, but as a child he had put it down to wanton imagination. He didn't know the scary man with his red eyes or his victims and there was no such thing as magic. It had scared him, yes, but the nightmares didn't come very often and he forgot about them pretty soon. When he came to Hogwarts, they had stopped almost completely, only returning after Voldemort's resurrection. First it only had been dreams about how Cedric and Sirius died, or in Sirius' case how he thought he died and it was okay, kind of, because everyone has nightmares once in a while. But then they weren't ordinary nightmares anymore, for nothing was ordinary with the boy-who-lived. They developed into visions, not those visions, Professors Trelawney was so fond of making up, either, no they were real. It had been worse, while they were still at war and Voldemort had killed or tortured some Muggle or Muggleborn every night. Harry had felt every curse, heard every pained scream, every defeated sob, every traitorous thought of just giving up. He could feel the victim's despair and Voldemort's satisfaction, when a whimpering pile of blood, bone and flesh was all that was left. Sometimes he could feel their eyes on him, pleading to help him. And he did, he took their pain, Voldemort never noticed and his so-called friends only saw the dark bruises under his eyes the next day, but when he smiled at them, even if it was false and strained, they stopped to worry immediately and moved on with their life, worrying about school work (Hermione) or the next Quidditch match (Ron). Now, the only ones Voldemort tortured were the Death Eaters from time to time, but Harry still took most of their pain and no-one noticed. He knew it was dangerous and probably would kill him eventually, but it was worse to do nothing, to let them suffer without any help. Harry was used to the pain. And when there were no current torture sessions, visions of times past played in front of his eyes and though he couldn't change the past he still felt the echoes of every curse. Those were the worst, because his suffering wasn't doing any good to the victims, but he couldn't just stop, and he somehow survived. That didn't mean however that he was strong enough to take it every night and that's why he wasn't sleeping like the rest of his peers. He carefully removed Dudley's arm from his stomach and tiptoed out of the room, after he had switched off the laptop. Harry decided to explore Malfoy Manor a little, while he wouldn't have to worry about somebody thinking he was sneaking around and spying. He had never been afraid of the dark- it most likely came from living in a cupboard- and even though it was still kind of creepy, he actually enjoyed his midnight stroll. The dark-haired boy even went out in the park and sat by the river a little, listening to the wind and the nocturnal animals. The Gryffindor then went back in and to the library he had found earlier, where he spent the rest of the night, reading up on Wizarding customs and what they knew and thought about empaths. One of these books compared wizards (and witches) with Muggles, what different costumes they had, what different views and so on and how that came to be. There was one passage that intrigued Harry greatly, it was about why homosexual relationships were accepted in the Wizarding World and even were kind of normal:

Unlike Muggles wizards have long since accepted homosexual relationships. A recent survey (okay, it wasn't all that recent anymore, since the book had been edited over ten years ago)shows us that most wizards and witches are at least bisexual, which makes them tolerate these kind of relationships easier. Homophobic Muggles often claim them to be unnatural, for the goal of a marriage is traditionally to have children. This however is no problem in the Wizarding World, because wizards and witches can easily conceive with the help of potions and certain rituals. In rare cases a wizard can even have- like women- the natural ability to get pregnant, though it's very likely for him to die giving birth or to miscarry. In this case it's important to cause the pregnant wizard as little stress- particular emotional stress- as possible, because those wizards need to focus all their magic on their child. However as most of those "bearers" as they are commonly called are very powerful, they tend to unleash a great deal of accidental magic when agitated... 

Harry snapped the book shut and curled up in his chair. _Bloody brilliant_, he thought to himself, now he also had to worry about getting pregnant. The likeliness may not be very high that he actually was a bearer, but he was sure the likeliness of surviving the killing curse was even lower and if he had learned anything in the last years, it was that Harry Potter was the gods' favourite example for the exception of the rule. And he was powerful, there was no use denying it.

"Okay, Potter", he admonished himself, "No use getting all worried, if you don't know if you really are a bearer."

So he pulled himself together and after having to find out that his current book, wasn't in the least helpful when it came to determining, if you were able to naturally conceive, he moved on to other books. There were some tests alright, but they necessitated a wand or at least a potion, and the first he couldn't use while the second would take too much time, so he moved on. The green-eyed wizard had nearly given up hope, when he came across a questionnaire that promised to give him a fairly good idea, whether or not he was a bearer.

Some of those questions sounded pretty reasonable, like for example if he was smaller than most of his peers (which, duh, he was) or whether he looked slightly effeminate (which, loath as he was to admit it, he did), but then on the other hand some questions just seemed to be random, like what his favourite colour was (green) or if he liked pine-apples (yes). Altogether there were over twenty questions and for each answer you got between one and five points. If you had a total of over ninety points, you were most likely a bearer. Harry double checked his points, before he groaned and rubbed his temples. _Bloody brilliant, indeed._ One hundred and three was definitely over ninety, wasn't it?

It was already past sunrise when Harry walked back to his rooms to take a shower, none of the others were awake yet, which was good, because otherwise they would have seen Harry's glamour flicker briefly, revealing bruises and unhealed wounds, covering every inch of his body.

* * *

**Press the button and write me something nice and no I didn't mean write me 'something nice', we already had this one...**


	16. The Wedding

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling, do I really have to elaborate? Fine, not mine.**

**Author's Note: The wedding! It's the day of the wedding (well, here it's midnight, but whatever)! Enjoy, review, you should know it by now...**

**Oh, yes, maybe it's only because I'm so tired, but I think this chapter's language is absolutely weird, so try to ignore it, please?**

**emphasis**

_thoughts_

"speech"

* * *

**16. THE WEDDING**

The day of the wedding came sooner than Harry would have liked. He had split his time between the library, where he looked for any contraception charms that wouldn't require the use of magic or some eccentric ingredients, he didn't know how to get his hands on- unsuccessful, he might add, dancing lessons with everybody who had a bit of time (which were quite a lot of people), but mostly Narcissa, and spending time with Dudley and the Slytherins.

And now he was standing in front of full-length mirror, while Narcissa was brushing of his robes, making sure the folds fell in all the right places and Luna was doing a crossword puzzle, filling in fantasy things, she was sure existed. Narcissa had tried to talk her out of wearing her radish earrings, but Luna said that they went lovely with the dress she was wearing (which was a pale green just for the protocol) and returned to her crossword puzzle.

His robes were of such a dark green that you thought they were black, until they caught the light. Sewed on the back were his two family crests; the lion and the unicorn facing each other and the Potter family device under it. Under the robes he wore black dress pants and a white tunic, but no-one would see them, anyway, so it was just so he wouldn't be completely nude.

It really was a beautiful day with sunshine and little clouds were drifting over the otherwise flawless sky, while a gentle breeze was whispering in the trees. It was one of those days where everything seems perfect- or at least it should be this way. Sure, the weather was great and his clothes looked remarkably well, although Harry thought he looked a bit like a child, dressing up with their parent's clothes, and all the people, he considered family, were there, but Harry couldn't bring himself to see the silver lining. Although he had spent all of his nights in the library, looking through ancient and new tomes, he had found nothing that would prevent him from getting pregnant without Tom noticing it (he doubted very much that the Dark Lord would just ignore him performing a ritual with his own sperm). By now he was sure to be an expert concerning this subject...

He checked himself once more in the mirror: he was pale, paler than usual, his eyes, no longer hidden by those glasses, were the same vibrant green colour as always, though they looked back at him with something akin to despair in them, his hair had the same midnight- colouring and was as tousled as ever, withstanding each of Narcissa's attempts to tame it. Harry sighed again and stepped from the stool Narcissa had coaxed him on, totally ignoring her protests.

There was a hesitant knock on the door and Sirius stepped into the unused classroom, just to find himself with the arms full of his godson. They stood there for a moment completely motionless, Harry's head tucked securely under the Animagus' chin, before Sirius began to make soothing circles on the small of the green-eyed wizard's back.

"If you really plan to go through with this, we have to go now, Harry", he finally whispered and Harry drew back reluctantly.

Kissing both his temples and his nose, the black-haired tall man, threw up Harry's hood, which hid his face entirely: "I'll always love you, just remember that."

"I love you, too, Siri", Harry whispered back and took Sirius hand, lightly, pulling him to the door, "It's time to go."

Narcissa and Luna had already left, presumably to take their places. They walked in silence to the huge entrance doors, because the wedding would be outside and only the ones actively taking part in it were allowed inside, which Harry was enormously grateful for. He wouldn't have been able to deal with reporters right now, not that he would ever.

The two stopped shortly before they could be seen from the open entrance doors, hugging once again, Harry clinging to the taller man for dear life, one sole strangled sob escaping his throat, echoing in the empty corridors.

The small black-haired boy freed himself only seconds later: "If I don't go now, I'll never go and I have to go."

Sirius just nodded understandingly and placed Harry's delicate hand in the crook of his arm, walking them through the door his face impassive, like his parents had taught him all those years ago, when he still had been considered a suitable heir for the Blacks.

The space between the castle, Hagrid's hut the Whomping Willow and the lake was crowded with people and reporters. As soon as they stepped out of the safety of Hogwarts an uncountable mass of cameras flashed and they were swarmed by eager wizards and witches, who were shoving their wands into their faces, screaming questions at them. Harry only saw them as blurry shapes and nameless faces, he knew none of them, but he knew they didn't give a damn about him or what he thought or felt about this.

Sirius resolutely pushed through them, shielding Harry as good as was possible, till they finally reached a secluded area for only those with an explicit invitation. When they breached the invisible barrier soft music started, and Harry smiled despite himself at how surreal this all was. All the guests stood up facing them, however no-one was really smiling. Harry spotted the whole Weasley clan plus Hermione and Fleur Delacour to his right, Mrs. Weasley was glaring at him with so much disdain that he quickly turned away. Two rows in front of them stood Luna's dad talking animatedly with Hagrid- they both seemed to be in another world. In the very first row waited Remus, looking sad and pensive, on his left was Simon, a curious combination of encouragement and anger on his face. The headmaster also had his seat there and he appeared to be the only one thoroughly enjoying this, beaming and twinkling- Harry couldn't have hated him more than at that precise moment. The other side seemed to be reserved for the Ministry of Magic and ironically for the Dark Lord's servants. Harry recognised only a few of the Ministry employees, amongst them Dolores Umbridge, Ludo Bagman and Percy Weasley, who had chosen to not sit with his family. More to the front the Death Eaters were seated, all in plain (but mostly expensive) black robes, though they had forgone their white masks- they were either smirking maliciously at him or showed a perfect facade of indifference.

Under an arch made of ivy and white roses, stood Voldemort- Tom- dressed in ceremonial robes of the same cut as Harry's, though his were actually black and he looked much more masculine and taller than the Gryffindor could ever hope to look. He also was watching them approach indifferently and nonchalantly, seeming completely sure of this and his powers. A bit to his right and behind him Cornelius Fudge was shifting from one foot to the other, fiddling with the pages of the book in his hand, obviously uncomfortable with being so close to the Dark Lord.

As soon as they stepped on the little stage, Fudge started babbling, welcoming them all to this joyous event, expressing his wishes for a future in peace and generally annoying everybody, killing most likely thousands of brain cells in his wake. Harry didn't listen though, but instead was trying to get his emotions under control.

"Who is consigning the groom?", he asked quite suddenly, turning to Sirius expectantly.

"I am", Sirius nearly growled, gently lifting the hood from Harry's head.

The Animagus placed his tanned hands on either side of the pale face and brushed his lips over Harry's scar lightly. When he drew back, his hands still in place, their eyes connected and for the shortest moment Sirius saw all the small boy felt flash in his eyes: fear, most of all, despair, closely followed, determination, outweighing the other two, anger, not directed at him, resignation, not supposed to be there in the eyes of such a young child, gratefulness, for everything, sadness, in all its glory, and love, only for him. And then he shut down entirely, making his eyes look somehow darker, like people put down their jalousies once night falls.

His broad hands fell to his sides and when for the first time they were no longer obscuring Harry's features, there were collective gasps from the guests and even Voldemort's eyes lit up in appreciation.

Harry truly was beautiful, there was no other word, not handsome, not pretty, beautiful. His milky white skin glowed in the sunlight, giving him an ethereal look, like an angel. The black, tousled hair contrasted sharply with his paleness, making him seem fragile and frail. And yet he radiated power, so much it was almost touchable. His green eyes were framed by dark lashes, partly hidden by them, but Tom believed that they were somehow different, though he couldn't put his finger on it, maybe it was just that he had never really seen them without glasses.

When everyone had pulled themselves together the Minister of Magic proceeded to officiate the wedding, reciting something from the book in his hands and attempting to make jokes to lighten the mood.

"Do you, Tom Marvolo Riddle, want to take the here present Harold James Potter as your husband?", the plump man demanded to know, refusing to meet the red eyes.

"I do", Voldemort said clearly, allowing himself a victorious smirk and slipped the silver band on Harry's ring finger.

"Do you, Harold James Potter, want to take the here present Tom Marvolo Riddle as your husband?", he repeated the question, his lips curling into an unpleasant smile.

"I do", Harry lied evenly, without hesitation, his glance not wavering from the spot behind Tom's shoulder, also placing the wedding band on Tom's hand.

"I hereby pronounce you husband and husband", Fudge ended, wiping away the sweat, slowly making its way down his neck, "You may kiss the groom."

"Finally", Voldemort nearly exclaimed, but of course he didn't.

Instead he stepped a little closer to his groom- his husband- and caressing the pale cheek, lightly nipped his head, kissing him rather chastely- the rest would come later. Some of the guests applauded politely, but it wasn't very enthusiastic. Magically the chairs disappeared to be replaced by small tables with white table cloths and silver plates.

The red-eyed man placed one arm around Harry's narrow waist, who seemed a bit apathetic, and led him to the table closest to the stage, where they would sit with Black, Lupin, Lucius and Narcissa, Harry's cousin, the empath and the Lovegood girl. Dumbledore had tried to get a seat at their table, but Tom had prevented that- he was intending to enjoy his wedding (at least one of the grooms would). Speaking of the old coot, he was standing on the stage, beaming insanely, and preparing to give a speech.

"Before we tuck in on the wonderful meal the house-elves have doubtlessly prepared, I'd like to congratulate the newly weds and seize the opportunity to tell you something about those two people...", he started, but before he could continue he was drowned out by loud music, looking as if he had sucked on a lemon drop that really tasted like lemon and not like sugar.

"Dance with me", Voldemort heard the whispered words in his ear and turned to look at his green-eyed husband, "If you don't want our whole life story dragged out."

The Dark Lord stood gracefully and, bowing slightly, offered his hand to Harry, who accepted blushingly, and followed him to the open space in between the tables (they were arranged in a circle). It was a rather slow song and while Harry laid his hand on Tom's shoulder, the taller man put his around his waist, pulling him closer.

"And what's your plan for when this song ends? Or do you expect me to dance with you until he falls asleep?", Tom cocked an eyebrow inquisitively, while swishing them over the grass.

"The food will be served after this song, if everything goes according to plan", explained Harry, "And if you don't want to dance with me, I'll find someone else", he tried to free himself, but the ex-Slytherin fastened his hold on him.

"I'm glad you gave me the honour of the first dance, Harry", he murmured, delighted by the subtle shiver that ran over Harry's delicate body.

Just then the song ended and as the Gryffindor had prophesised the meal appeared on the tables and the few couples, who had joined them on the dance floor (Lucius and Narcissa and Remus and Sirius amongst them) took their seats. A quick glance to Dumbledore's table, where the aged headmaster sat with the other Hogwarts professors and the Minister and one second glance into his pinched face, made Voldemort's day **so** much better and he even nodded contemptuously to the leaders of the light, raising his glass mockingly, before he turned back to his own table.

Next to him Harry was cutting his trout filet into neat little pieces and salted his potatoes, though he seemed to have no intention whatsoever to actually eat it. Tom watched him out of the corner of his eye, while he ate his own meal, but the young man only seldom transported one of the little pieces into his mouth, mostly amusing himself with making piles and undoing them again, just to make another one. _Maybe he is nervous_, he concluded.

"Harry", that annoying Muggle, "Are you gonna eat that?"

"No, you can have it", Harry pushed the plate over to his cousin, "But if you want something else, you can ask one of the house-elves", Dudley had indeed already finished his main course and since there would be a buffet for the dessert, which hadn't appeared yet, he had nothing else to fill his mouth with _(except of course useless questions_, Voldemort added mentally), "I'll call Dobby for you, if you want me to?"

"That'd be great", agreed Dudley looking happy, already tucking in on Harry's food, "My coach gave me this list with all kinds of stuff on it so that I keep in shape over the hols. And since I didn't do anything over the last days, this morning I thought it would be a nice idea to somehow make up for it, so I had no time for breakfast..."

While Dudley finished his cousin's plate- it was sort of fascinating that he managed to eat and talk at the same time- Harry softly said Dobby's name and the little creature appeared with an audibly "plop", which confused some of the other guests.

"Dobby is overjoyed to see Master Harry Potter, Sir", he bowed deeply, his nose touching the grass, which made him sneeze, "What can Dobby do for Harry Potter, Sir?"

"Nothing, Dobby", the elf's ears dropped, "But my cousin here is a bit famished and would be very grateful to you, if he could have a second helping of your delicious cooking", Dobby perked up, giving Harry a toothy grin.

"What can Dobby bring to Master Harry Potter's cousin, Sir?", he squeaked, looking hopefully up at the muscular youth.

"I'd like the rump steak again, if that's no trouble to you", Dudley replied and with a snap of Dobby's long, thin fingers his plate refilled, "Thank you", he was already eating again.

"May Dobby ask Master Harry Potter a question, Sir?", the elf inquired timidly and only continued after Harry's encouraging nod, "Dobby and Winky is wanting to ask you, if you maybe would allow us to be your house-elves? We is not wanting no money, we is just wanting to stay with Master Harry Potter, Sir, and take care of Master Harry Potter, Sir."

"Dobby, are you sure about this?", the elf nodded vigorously, "Good, then I agree, but I will pay at least you, since Winky seemed to be rather offended by the idea of payment the last time I saw her, and you will not call me 'Master Harry Potter, Sir', but Harry"- Dobby shook his head violently- "Master Harry, then. And you will tell me, if your uncomfortable with anything, understood?"

"Yes, Master Harry", Dobby beamed at him, "What is you wanting me and Winky to do?"

"Tom?", the dark-haired boy turned to his husband, "Is this alright with you? Can I send them to Slytherin Castle, now?"

"Sure, Harry", complied Voldemort, "They should know the location since they're now in your service."

"Dobby can you and Winky go there so that tomorrow I can ask you where everything is?", Harry asked politely and after bowing once again Dobby "plopped" away.

"Was that my old house-elf?", Lucius inquired, sipping his wine.

"Yes", Harry sighed, "I'm sorry, if I offended you."

"There's nothing to be sorry about, Harry", Lucius replied kindly, "I was merely wondering about it."

There was a moment silence that was interrupted by a long table appearing to their right, laden with all kinds of different desserts, and Dudley's whoop of joy, followed by Harry's quiet chuckling. Around them people started to get up, shuffling more or less over to the buffet and filling their plates with the sweet treats.

"Won't you get something as well?", Tom asked, when he stood as one of the last ones to refill his plate, not able keep the concern completely out of his voice.

"No, thanks, Tom", Harry shifted a little on his seat, as if he was uncomfortable, "I'm pretty sure that Dudley will bring along something for me..."

"Right you are, Scrawny", Dudley plopped down on the seat, which had previously belonged to Sirius, "Here you have tiramisu, fruit salad without banana and chocolate cookies. And when you have finished all this, you can try some of my stuff."

"Wow, that's a good motivation", Harry mocked, but tried some of the tiramisu, mmming appreciatively.

Gradually the others returned to the table, all with some delicious looking dessert on their plates and started eating again. There was a semblance of peacefulness around the table and if you didn't take into account who and what those people were, they could have been just friends, catching up with each other sharing some tea and coffee. But of course it was just an illusion. One that couldn't last.

"Harry, my dear boy, how are you doing?", Dumbledore patted his shoulder, making the boy squirm away uncomfortably.

"Is there anything I can help you with, Headmaster?", Harry asked back, avoiding the question.

"Oh, I just wondered if you had anything to do with that piece of music just before the meal, it was highly unconventional", the old man said innocently, not taking his hand away from Harry.

Harry laughed, albeit a bit strainedly: "But of course, while I stayed at the Malfoy's, they did their best to teach me how to dance and I just couldn't wait to try it out for real. If I had known that you planned to make a speech, I would have spoken with Dobby about it."

"Not to worry, Harry", Dumbledore replied, obviously trying to sound reassuring, "I only wanted to tell you that the staff of Hogwarts has decided that you and your husband are welcome to stay at Hogwarts, till the end of the vacation..."

"That won't be necessary, Dumbledore", Tom intervened, brushing Dumbledore's hand off and replacing it with his own, "I made arrangements for us to be taken to my castle immediately after the festivities are over. Since it will now be Harry's home I think it's best for him to get used to it as soon as possible."

"Tom, you don't know Harry, it'll certainly be too much for him to take in all at once", Dumbledore reprimanded, his eyes twinkling madly.

"I happen to agree with Tom", Harry backed him, looking the headmaster dead in the eye, "I'd rather find out now, what my future looks like."

"I think you'll find that to be a mistake, Harry", the old man sighed, seeming every part of sad, but inside cursing the stubbornness of the stupid boy, who refused to co-operate, "But if you really want to do this, I won't forbid you to go."

"How very kind of you, Dumbledore", Voldemort sneered, his red eyes glowing dangerously, "Considering that he doesn't need your permission, that means **so** much... If you don't mind? I'm sure you'll find someone else to bother..."

"There's still the matter of Harry's new address", he fought a losing battle and he knew it, "As his headmaster I need to know it in case of an emergency."

Tom cocked an eyebrow in dark amusement: "Is that so? I fail to see what kind of emergency would necessitate you to have it. Harry's health is no longer a concern of yours and every other 'emergency' is no concern of mine and therefor of Harry. Should there be any information for him, you can send an owl. And now I ask you for the last time to leave us alone", the menace in his voice no longer subtle.

The headmaster threw one last look in Harry's direction, who was staring mutely at the table decoration, and stalked away.

"I'm not your property. You can't tell me who or what I am to care about", Harry said, as soon as Dumbledore was out of earshot and Tom had sat back down.

"I know, Harry", the Dark Lord reassured him gently, squeezing one pale hand, "I didn't mean to offend you with my words. I just wanted that old coot to go- preferably without our address."

Harry nodded meekly.

After they had all finished eating, the buffet disappeared and Fudge stepped back onto the stage, cleared his throat several times, before he announced that now the best-men would say something.

Lucius gave Dudley a sign that he should go first, whereupon the Muggle got up and took the stage: "Hello everyone. It's kind of strange, because I don't know most of you, and I'm pretty sure you don't know me. I'm Dudley Dursley, Harry's cousin, but you don't have to know this. You should however know him, because he's the best person I ever met. He's kind and caring, he's strong and brave, he's intelligent and understanding, he has every good characteristic you can come up with and that's why I hate you. I hate you all so fucking much, because you shouldn't be doing this to him, because he doesn't deserve all this shit you're throwing in his face and because he would never hate you. I don't know Voldemort", nearly everyone winced, "and maybe... maybe he is a nice guy, but he could never... never be good enough for my cousin. That's really all I wanted to say. Thank you."

The assembled witches and wizards sat in shocked silence, as the Muggle walked back to his seat.

"Well, at least this speech isn't overlapping with mine", commented Lucius commented dryly, "Although I happen to agree in most points. If you look at this wedding objectively, it's an arranged marriage, which aren't uncommon in the Wizarding World particularly amongst pureblood families. Narcissa's and my marriage was arranged, too, and I cannot say that I am unhappy about it. I am positive that Harry Potter and the Dark Lord will make this marriage and this peace work, for both parties, because if they have anything in common it is their obstinacy. Thank you for your attention."

A few clapped their hands rather reluctantly and stopped at once, when music began to play again.

"Would you dance with me, Harry?", Tom asked politely, eager to have his petite beautiful husband back in his arms, and extended his hand and Harry laid his much smaller one on it, allowing him to guide him to the dance floor once again.

Voldemort pulled his younger husband closer, supporting him with one arm around his back and swayed him slowly to the music. Harry didn't protest or struggle, though he looked slightly uneasy and decidedly embarrassed. Voldemort marvelled once more how beautiful a husband he now had. They were complete opposites, at least in looks: where Harry was small and delicate, he himself was tall and muscular in the right places, giving him the body of a chaser or maybe a keeper; Harry's skin was milky white and flawless like in those old portraits of regal woman, while his skin was tanned; given they both had black hair, but Tom's was slightly wavy, falling in perfect fashion and Harry's stuck out in every direction, as if he hadn't bothered to fix it after he got out of bed. The Dark Lord liked Harry's feel against him, he even liked it to wrap him up in his arms protectively, but that was okay. He wondered how Harry would act when they were in private, he would yell at him most likely and fight his every step, throw insults at his head- wasn't that something to look forward to? Note the irony. Tom sighed, he didn't want to actually force the Gryffindor, it wasn't like him to rape him every week and maybe with time Harry would realise this. _Or you will break his spirit,_ this annoying little voice in his head said, but he batted it away resolutely. He didn't want to break the small Gryffindor, not anymore.

"May I have the next dance with my godson?", Sirius tapped Voldemort's shoulder.

The Dark Lord nodded swiftly, before he turned once again to his Harry.

He pressed his lips shortly on the small hand and bowed a little, making Harry blush: "I hope you'll find the time to dance with me once more later on. We'll leave at about seven, so I would appreciate it, if you had said your good-byes by then."

After Sirius he danced with Luna, who was of the opinion she could make a rainbow appear, because she had goblin blood running through her veins, and after Luna he danced with Lucius and Remus and Draco and Pansy and Dudley and Blaise and Simon and Narcissa and even with Severus, though he protested and stepped on his foot on purpose.

Harry avoided the Weasleys as good as he could, but he could see them glaring at him out of the corner of his eye and sometimes he heard defamations or maledictions hissed in his ear when they passed other dancers, but he tried to ignore that as well. Some of the Ministry workers came over to congratulate him and some even thanked him, but that was almost worse than the insults, so he tried to avoid them as well. The professors kept telling him, they would always be there, if he needed help or someone to talk to- the way the spoke about him reminded him of a graduation party or maybe a funeral, And they all seemed to think that he needed physical reassurance as well, hugging him, patting his shoulder, rubbing his back. Harry hated it when people touched him without warning or coming from behind- touch had never been good in his life. He tried to avoid them, too. The Death Eaters kept their distance, either standing guard or making conversation with the influential guests- Harry was glad for that small reprieve.

At half past six he had danced with everyone, he wasn't trying to avoid, at least twice, had talked with Simon and Dudley and they had said their good-byes only a minute or so earlier, before they disappeared through the Floo-network. He had spoken with Madam Pomfrey, reassuring the stern witch that he had taken his potions and accepting her job offer. He had met with Damian and Tanea, happy to see that they were getting along and handed the book about werewolves to the girl. Draco had promised him to ask his father, if he could come to Slytherin Castle as well, keeping him company. Luna had bid him farewell over an hour ago, because she would go on a trip with her father to verify the myth of Loch Ness.

He was just on his way to thank Narcissa for everything, when suddenly Dumbledore blocked his path, smirking confident of victory. So far he had been able to dodge him, before the headmaster had a chance to start a conversation, but it seemed like that was no longer an option. Unless...

A huge smile spread over his features, it was fake, but Dumbledore wouldn't realise it. He waved in the direction of the headmaster, speeding towards him. Just as the old man was about to open his mouth in greeting Harry passed him, breached the magical barrier and immersed in the mass of reporters, who were currently trying to interview a very annoyed Cornelius Fudge. It was definitely time to put his diminutive height to good use. None of the reporters took note of him, for some reason they all thought that Harry Potter was much taller, and of course they thought he was attention-seeking, so why would he be hiding?

He reached the castle undetected and slipped into the welcoming darkness. Harry sat down in a small alcove near the entrance, but hidden enough that no-one, particularly Dumbledore would see him, if they weren't exactly looking for him. He curled up, his knees drawn to his chest and his head on his knees. He was so tired. He hadn't slept at all in the last days and it was taking its toll. Just a few minutes... Harry hadn't even finished his last thought, when he was already fast asleep in the land of dreams- or rather in the land of nightmares. By comparison he slept rather well and for a change he only dreamed about the Dursleys, which at least only left him in emotional pain. Not that it was much better.

Voldemort was extremely irritated- no, scratch that: he was boiling with rage. It had been nearly four hours ago, when he realised that his husband seemingly had no intention whatsoever to show up at the agreed time. So he decided to just find him and bring them home as soon as possible, where he would explain to him without ruffle or excitement that this was not to happen again.

After one hour, he stooped so low as to ask the Animagus and his werewolf if they had seen Harry, but they were just as clueless. Into the bargain, Black started to worry immediately and joined his search.

After another hour the mutt began to accuse him of having kidnapped his own spouse, Fudge had fled as soon as he got wind of Harry's disappearance, probably to ward his office, and his Death Eaters and Harry's friends had joined the search party.

And now four hours later they had searched every place, they could come up with, even the Gryffindor Tower, though McGonagall had protested vehemently. They stood in a circle just outside the castle, waiting for the last ones to return. This was ridiculous!

"Is everyone there?", hissed Voldemort.

"Rabastan and Rudolphus are still missing", Lucius supplied, frowning in thought, "They went to check the Astronomy tower."

"I already looked for him there about an hour ago", scowled Severus, "Unless he changed his location every..."

Just then the dark shape of one of the Lestrange brothers appeared to Voldemort's right. They both looked very much alike with dark brown hair and eyes and a tall and well-muscled build. In the dim light you couldn't tell them apart.

"Mylord, we found him", he murmured in Voldemort's ear, who spun around and motioned for the Death Eater to show him the way.

To his surprise they only walked a few meters, before Rabastan, for indeed it was the younger of the brothers. as you now could see in the dim light of several torches, stopped and pointed at an alcove, where his brother was crouched over something.

"Is he hurt?", Tom asked, kneeling down next to Rudolphus and the pale form of Harry.

"No, as far as I can tell he's only sleeping, though it doesn't seem to be very peaceful", Rudolphus' voice was slightly deeper than his brother's.

In fact Harry was whimpering softly and his hands pressed against his drawn up knees. Voldemort's anger faded, as he saw how innocent Harry looked and he carefully scooped him up into his arms. Harry's whimpering grew louder and he struggled weakly, murmuring incoherent words like "No" and "don't".

"I'll take him home right now", Tom rummaged through his pockets, till he found the portkey, a silver drinking cup, "Tell everyone that he's fine and tell Black and the werewolf they may write him as long as they don't overdo it."

The two brown-haired men nodded obediently and walked swiftly to the door, which Voldemort had secured earlier with a charm. Tom shifted the weight in his arms slightly, before saying the password in Parseltongue.**

* * *

**

**You wouldn't happen to be in a reviewy mood, would you? PLEASE...**


	17. The Wedding Night

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

**Author's Note: Okay, I decided to edit the lemons, since I don't want to loose all my wonderful reviews... Sorry, about that. If you want to read the whole chappie you can either send me a review with your e-mail adress and I will send it to you or you can go to www . foreverfandom . net and read it there. It's under the same title and the same user name so you should have no problem finding it. I'm sorry once again, but I really like to watch my own story get more and more reviews and I'd hate to have my story deleted and have to start all over again #shrugs sheepishly#.**

**Good news for you, I guess: The whole chapter can now also be found on www . adultfanfiction . net under the same title and the same pen-name, so now everyone can read it and I won't have to send so many emails. Yay!

* * *

**

**17. THE WEDDING NIGHT**

Harry awoke to a familiar jerk behind his navel and as he blinked open his eyes he was met with a unknown sight. He began to panic a little bit and he struggled to free himself and that's when that "a little bit" rapidly grew, because he was pressed against a hard chest and he heard and felt breathing near his ear and on his neck. He nearly sobbed in frustration, when the person wouldn't let him go, but only held on tighter.

"Shh, it's alright, calm down, Harry", the words were whispered almost directly in his ear and didn't do anything to ease his fear, "It's me Tom. I won't hurt you, remember?"

Suddenly the bundle in his arms went absolutely limp, only Harry's eyes squeezed shut tightly and his lips moving in some kind of mantra. Tom wasn't sure if this was a good or a bad sign. He continued whispering words in his ear, rubbing his hand up and down the robe-clad arm, supporting himself against the wall outside of his chambers.

The green eyes opened slowly and carefully, as if the boy was expecting a basilisk to stare back at him: "Where am I?"

"You're in Slytherin Castle in the corridor leading to our rooms", replied the Slytherin evenly.

"And why exactly are you carrying me?", demanded the boy suspiciously.

"Because you fell asleep in one of the corridors and after we finally found you, I had no intention to stay there any longer, while you said your good-byes", replied the dark-haired man, "And you're still in my arms, because I wanted to carry you over the threshold, since I thought you might appreciate a little bit of Muggle tradition. May I?"

Harry nodded a blush rising in his cheeks: "I'm sorry I made you look for me", he mumbled as Voldemort let him down, closing the door behind them.

"It doesn't matter, I'm sure you didn't do it on purpose", so much for lecturing him about keeping him waiting, "These are the rooms we'll be sharing from now on. This is the living room. Feel free to read all those books, although I suggest you pay a visit to the library, should you want books on one specific subject. The door has a lock, which works without magic, should you feel the need for privacy, I will most likely respect your wish, unless I have a reason not to. And the Death Eater usually don't come here very often. Over there", he pointed at one of the dark brown doors, "Is the bathroom. There's a door connecting it to the bedroom, which is over here", he guided the smaller wizard through the other door, "Behind that landscape picture is a walk-in cupboard for your clothes. I guess your house-elves already brought your things and put them in the right place. The rest of the castle is also at your disposal, but I ask you not to disturb the Death Eaters in their private quarters, unless they invite you. Do you have any questions?"

Harry mutely shook his head, fiddling with the hem of his robes.

"Harry, look at me", the green-eyed boy looked up at him fearfully, "I promise to be gentle, don't be afraid."

The small boy choked back a sob, lowering his head again.

Voldemort carefully went to embrace him, irrationally afraid he would squeeze him, if he tightened his hold.

The Gryffindor buried his head in Tom's chest, clenching his fists in the black robes.

"Tom, please, I think I'm bearer. I'm only sixteen, I don't want to be a parent just now. Please, don't force me to. Please, I'm begging you, use some contraception, please...", he sobbed into his chest, his whole body trembling.

"Shh", Voldemort had only understood a few incoherent words, which didn't make too much sense, so he assumed that Harry was just nervous, because this would be his first time, "I'll take care of everything. Don't worry."

He continued to make soothing circles on the small of his back, until Harry drew back.

He wiped away the tears and tried a watery smile: "Thanks, Tom."

The Dark Lord smiled back (a foreign motion at least for him) and then started to undo Harry's robes and then his tunic, while the delicate boy hesitantly reached up to take off Tom's robes. When the red-eyed man had finished with Harry's clothes so that the young man was only standing in his underwear in front of him, he helped Harry with his own clothes, since his small hands shook too much to be of great use. He then kissed Harry gently but firmly on the lips, cupping his face between his tanned hands. He was delighted when the smaller wizard leaned into his touch shyly and opened his mouth a little so that he could skip his tongue in, exploring every nook and cranny of his mouth. His taste reminded him of white chocolate and marzipan. Tom slowly pushed Harry back until the hollow of his knees hit the bed and he fell back on the black covers, laying there completely motionless, his big green eyes looking up at the older man with a curious combination of fear and trust.

**---SCENE EDITED- Read the Author's Note to find the link---**

"Sleep now, Harry", he murmured, drawing the blanket over their bodies, "I'll show you everything else tomorrow."

He cast two more spells. One to clean their bodies and the other so that his wand would heat up at half past seven to wake him up and only a few minutes later his breathing evened out.

Harry lay there awake for the rest of the night, watching his new husband and thinking everything through. No way, could he sleep in the arms of the older man, because should he wake up in the middle of the night, which was more than likely, he was sure to panic and he doubted very much that Voldemort was such a heavy sleeper as Draco. The little Gryffindor had been kind of surprised by Tom's attitude towards him and he gave him credit for the contraception charm, he had remembered to use. The supposedly evil Dark Lord nearly hadn't hurt him at all, though he still felt humiliated and betrayed by his body's reaction to his ministrations and the memories of his uncle that had seeped through his tight barriers sporadically ruined any positive feeling he might have had. He had been shocked, when he saw how big Voldemort's cock was, definitely bigger and longer than Uncle Vernon's, although he had no other means to compare it, but Tom had prepared him so thoroughly, something that was completely new to the young man, that it wasn't worse than with his uncle. It had helped of course that they had gone slow, though Harry wished most of the time that his husband would just hurry up and get it over with, so that he could avoid once again thinking about his uncle's punishments. Which was also the reason he had forced his hands to reach up.

And now they lay together in bed. The fact that Tom had allowed him to stay here, did alleviate some of the humiliation, at least he wasn't treated like a total whore, though he could do without the arms around his body.

* * *

**You could still review, couldn't you?**


	18. The First Day Part One

**Disclaimer: I'm not J.K.Rowling, therefor I don't own the characters and places from the Harry Potter, therefor this is not mine!**

**Author's Note: Okay, I realise that I promised you a summary of the last chapter, but since I edited the chapter so that it's completely harmless, I would suggest you read the parts that are still up, before reading my summary...**

**Summary of chapter 17: Harry tells Tom that he's a bearer. Tom doesn't understand him and so doesn't use a contraception charm (I realised that this wasn't very clear, sorry about that). They have sex and Harry shuts down, so that he won't be overwhelmed by his memories. And then they fall asleep... Did I forget something? I hope not.**

**Well here's the next chapter:**

**emphasis**

_thoughts_

"speech"

Parseltongue/ ** (I was wondering when I would actually need this again...)**

* * *

**18. THE FIRST DAY- PART ONE**

He watched the red-eyed man sleep the whole night, only turning around when Voldemort began to stir. Harry closed his eyes and slowed his breathing, something he had learned from Simon's mum, pretending he was fast asleep. He felt the bed dip in his back as Voldemort sat up, stretched a little and then went to the bathroom. Harry heard him turn on the shower and something that sounded like an electronic razor. Half an hour later the Dark Lord reappeared fully dressed and stood in the doorway for a second, as if unsure what to do. Then he crept up to Harry's bedside careful not to make any noise and knelt down next to his head.

He brushed away one of the black strands that was obscuring his face: "I'm sorry if I hurt you last night, little one!", he whispered, pressing a chaste kiss on the lightning bolt scar, before he quickly moved out the door.

As soon as he heard the outer door snap shut, Harry blinked open his eyes, turning on his back and staring at the black drapings for over ten minutes, before he jumped out of the bed, heading straight for the shower. He scrubbed himself from head to toe furiously, destroying all evidence that Tom had ever touched him, and then got dressed in slightly baggy jeans and one of his new tee-shirts with a small lion at his chest (it had been kind of weird to walk into his cupboard and find that even with his new clothes he barely possessed enough to fill one of the shelves), careful to hide the hickey he couldn't get rid of and that adorned his neck.

He then called for Dobby, asking him for the way to where he would get breakfast, after having told himself that the Death Eaters would think it cowardice, if he wouldn't show up. The small house-elf was delighted as always to be of help and guided him to a door that was more than double of Harry's height.

"Here, it is, Master Harry", Dobby squeaked, bowing deeply, "If Master Harry is needing anything else, he just calls for Dobby or Winky. Is there anything else Dobby, can do for Master Harry?"

"You wouldn't happen to know who's already there, would you?", Harry asked curiously.

"Dobby is knowing: You-Know-Who, Lucius Malfoy, Avery, Nott, Macnair, Crabbe, Goyle, Severus Snape, Bellatrix Lestrange and the Lestrange brothers", said the little creature proudly and Harry nodded absent-mindedly.

It seemed like the Death Eaters were early risers. Harry sighed deeply, waved good-bye to Dobby, and pushed the doors open. He wasn't sure, if they had stopped all conversation at the noise or if they just weren't very talkative this morning, but they all turned around to face him. The hall he entered was dark as seemed to be the whole castle, but to Harry's right there were huge glass windows that let in the light, though the dark stone walls seemed to absorb it immediately. Appearingly Dobby had listed the attenders in the order they were sitting in. Voldemort sat at the head of a long wood table, which was laden with food and was- surprise, surprise- nearly black. To his left was Lucius and on the opposite side was an empty chair, which Harry supposed would be his from now on.

"Ehm, morning?", he said unsurely and walked slowly to where his tall husband sat in a high-backed chair, "What are they all staring at, Tom?", he whispered in the Dark Lord's ear.

"You, I would assume. Good morning, by the way", he answered clearly.

"Can I call you Tom in front of your Death Eaters?", Harry demanded to know, still whispering.

"Sure."

"Thanks", the Gryffindor brushed his lips over the tanned cheek, straightening up, "Morning, Lucius."

"Good morning, Harry", the blond aristocrat returned, looking the small boy over for any signs of pain, relieved to find none.

"Is there sugar in your coffee?", the black haired boy eyed the cup warily, still leaning against the blond's chair.

Lucius shook his head, watching perplexedly as he took his cup of white coffee and sipped it: "Well, thank you, now it's my coffee", he said cheekily, walking over to Severus, before he could formulate a reply.

"Morning, Severus", he greeted the Potion's Master, who just mumbled something into the book, he was obviously reading.

"If you're going to steal something from me as well, Gryffindor will be in the negative, before you even set foot in the Great Hall", he then scowled, glowering up at his student.

"You're no fun, Severus", Harry pouted, "And if you don't give me something to eat, Madam Pomfrey will have your head..."

"I'm not afraid of that fussy witch, Potter", the Professor snorted, turning a page.

"... she'll make you do all those healing potions, she'll convince Dumbledore that all the students need immunisation against the flue and of course she'll need your help in administering the potion, she'll check you for every illness or sickness, she has ever heard about and then she'll make you drink one of **her**potions, she'll...", Harry enumerated, his grin broadening, while Snape's face was going paler and paler.

"I got it, Potter", he finally interrupted and thrust his plate at the smirking boy, "Here, take whatever you want."

"Who ever said I wanted anything, Severus?", Harry laughed, kissing his cheek, which made his scowl deepen even more, "And Gryffindor will win the House Cup."

He skipped away, ignoring the Potion's Master grumbling, and went to sit at his place next to the Dark Lord. Unfortunately he had to pass Bellatrix Lestrange, who stuck out her foot to make him fall.

Harry just quirked an eyebrow, gracefully stepping over it: "What? Aren't you going to steal some of our food as well, Mudblood? Seems like my dearest cousin isn't paying you well enough for your **services**, I always knew he had bad tastes. Do you miss him already, little Harry, do you miss your sugar daddy? You should serve us, that's the only thing, you'll ever be good for, anyway, you're just a little catamite, you pathetic excuse of a wizard."

"That's quite enough, Bella", Tom wanted to intervene, but the words got stuck in his throat, as he watched his husband turn around slowly, his face blank, and reach for a bowl of fruit salad.

"Would you want some fruit salad, Mr. Lestrange?", he said in an emotionless voice to the elder Lestrange brother.

"No, thank you, Mr. Potter", the dark haired man replied, confusion shining in his eyes.

"Would you want some fruit salad, Mrs. Lestrange?", Harry asked in the same way, inclining his head slightly.

"Yes, slave", the tall black-haired woman smirked triumphantly.

But this didn't last long, because instead of piling some of the fruity substance on her plate, Harry emptied the bowl over her head, putting it on top: "Firstly, the correct term is Halfblood or blood traitor or the product of a blood treason, secondly I assure you that I have other qualities than serving food or having sex and lastly I would advise you to not come near me, to not touch me, to not speak to me, to not insult me and to never mess with me or my family again. Have a good day!"

With that he turned his back on the furious and fruit salad-covered woman, walking calmly to his seat.

"You", he heard the scream behind him, but didn't turn around, "I'll kill you painfully and slowly", she spat cleaning herself off.

"Death?", Harry mocked, "I'm not afraid of death, Lestrange. And pain? I experienced pains you wouldn't even know how to describe let alone inflict. So go on, curse me, I'll make sure to laugh in your face, once you finished your pathetic attempts."

"Then describe it", the female Death Eater challenged.

"You wouldn't understand it, for understanding would require feelings and you're obviously lacking in that department", Harry answered coldly, still not turning around, and continued on his way.

The next thing he heard was the swishing of a wand and the soaring of curses. Harry swirled around barely dodging a red beam. Bellatrix advanced quickly, never pausing in her attacks and Harry saw no other choice. A bright light enveloped his body, for one or two seconds and when it disappeared, it seemed like Harry had disappeared as well. Most of the Death Eaters and Voldemort himself thought, the Gryffindor had been hit by one of Bellatrix' spells, but then they spotted a rather small and thin black panther with unproportionally big paws and vibrant green eyes, who ducked down in preparation to attack. And attack he did: Bellatrix had just finished another string of spells, when suddenly the little cat of prey darted forward and hit her face with one pawn, the crawls leaving four angry red and slightly bleeding marks on her face. The force of the jump made the witch loose her balance and drop her wand and she landed on the hard stone floor with an angry panther standing on her chest. Harry, the panther, hissed at her, showing his impressive canines, which made the witch loose the rest of her skin colour. She tried to scramble away, which Harry allowed, impelling her to the only door, matching each of her steps with one of his own. As her back hit against the door, she fumbled with the handle not taking her eyes of the growling cat and finally slipped through the narrow gap, closing the door firmly behind her. Harry stood there for several moments listening to any sounds and didn't turn away, till he was sure she had gone.

He stalked back to his seat, changing back half way there and flopped down.

"Keep her away from me", he said clearly- no-one missed the underlying threat in his voice.

"You're an Animagus?", Lucius eventually asked after a long silence, in which everyone had regarded him, like you would a volcano, not sure, if it would erupt again.

"It would seem so", the small boy rolled his eyes.

"Why didn't you inform me of this, when I said you should train to be one?", Tom asked a bit miffed.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry", Harry replied sarcastically, "Would you like to know all the jinxes I don't know the counter curses to? I'll write you a list right now...", he got up from the table, a scowl on his face.

"Wait", Harry put his head against the still closed door and sighed impatiently: "What, Tom?"

"Sit back down", the Dark Lord ordered calmly, even going so far as to pull out Harry's chair so that he could take his seat easier.

/I hate you, Harry hissed dangerously, but sat down, staring mutely at a point behind Lucius shoulder.

Tom should be pleased that Harry had obeyed him, shouldn't he? Well, he wasn't. And though he knew that Harry didn't actually hate him, it hurt in a strange place inside his chest to hear those words. Or maybe Harry did hate him? He would certainly hate himself if he was Harry... Perhaps he had hurt Harry more than he realised last night, the small boy had acted kind of strange, but on the other hand he had thought Harry would scream at him and castrate him when he fell asleep, so Harry's reaction was definitely curious... He absent-mindedly grabbed for his third cheese sandwich, his hand meeting an empty plate. Tom looked up startled, there had been one left only moments ago.

"Who took my cheese sandwich?", he snarled, his red eyes flashing in anger.

"That would be me", Harry smiled a bit too innocently up at him, pointing at the sandwich that lay on his plate untouched.

"Give it back."

"Let me think about it...", Harry tapped his chin in thought, "No. Make your own sandwich. Don't tell me the great Lord Voldemort is not even able to make his own sandwich- that's really pathetic, you know?"

Tom glared at him: "Everyone can make a sandwich, but I have house-elves to do that."

"I gave them the day off", Harry grinned.

"You're bluffing."

"Well, Dobby is still here... I don't think we have to argue, whose bidding he will do, Tom", the petite Gryffindor smirked, "Now, make your sandwich."

"You can't order me around."

"And who gives you the right to order me around?", Harry snapped, his eyes spitting green fire, "You wanted me to sit at this stupid table just so that your minions can stare some more at me and now I'm not even allowed to eat, or what?", he glared some more, before turning back to his sandwich, carefully putting the Swiss cheese on the edge of the plate, before putting it back together.

"What are you doing?", Tom asked much more civilly.

"I don't like cheese very much", the black-haired boy shrugged, irritating Tom once again: "Then why did you take **my** cheese sandwich?"

"Why did you order me to sit back down, if you were only going to snap at me?"

Tom took a deep breath, then, to calm down.

Shouting at Harry, would get them nowhere and Harry somehow had a point there, as Lucius half amused, half angry expression told him all too clearly: "Fine. You can have that sandwich and for your information I wanted to tell you your schedule for the following weeks", he turned around to the Death Eaters, who had followed their conversation with fascination, "Stop staring at him", at once their eyes swivelled away from them.

"I'm not going to apologise", the young man clarified stubbornly, wrapping his arms around his up-drawn knees in an protecting gesture, "She started it and you never asked me if I already was an Animagus. And it's your own fault for ordering me around."

"I never expected you, too", Tom smirked slightly but there was no malice in it, "Would you like to eat something else?"

"No, you can have the sandwich", the black-haired boy declined and pushed his plate over to the Dark Lord, who accepted it gratefully, "But... Where is my coffee?"

"Here it is", Rabastan, who sat next to him, spoke up, "You put it there before my sister-in-law attacked you."

"Thanks, Mr. Lestrange", Harry replied, smiling politely and accepting the cup, drinking from the hot substance, burning his tongue, "Shit, why is this damned coffee still so bloody hot?"

"There're heating charms on all of the tableware", Tom informed him matter-of-factly, his smirk growing bigger, "And you shouldn't use such foul language."

"Look who's speaking", the petite boy muttered, "Will you show me that stupid schedule of yours anytime soon or should I try my luck with divination?"

Voldemort snorted, for a few seconds mesmerised by the way Harry's lips formed a small 'o' to blew on his coffee, and handed over a piece of paper with each of the days left, until school would start again, represented by a small box in which Voldemort had written either "Martial Arts", "Occlumency", "Healing Potions" or "Animagus training". It seemed like the portioning out of the lessons had been geared by the different days of the week and like he had left off the Sunday completely. On Tuesdays and Saturdays he only had one lesson, while every other day he was scheduled for two.

"Obviously, you won't need to take the Animagus training so that time will be free for you, too", Tom added, after he had pulled himself together, "The exact times of your lessons you'll arrange with your respective teachers."

"You do realise that I have an awfully lot of free time, don't you? Not that I'm complaining", he continued quickly, "I just expected you to load me with work so that I would have no time to destroy your castle or something like that."

The tall black-haired man looked a bit uncomfortable as he answered/I thought that we could perhaps get to know each other more on one of your free days... With this new development, I won't have any part of your lessons- at least while you still aren't allowed to use magic- but I want to spent some time with you all the same. Maybe we could agree on a day, where we just talk and go for a walk maybe? I realise that this is not part of the contract, but I think it would make this more easier and enjoyable on the long run... What do you say/

/Not on Sunday or Monday, but otherwise I like your suggestion, Harry returned, also switching to Parseltongue.

/What about Tuesday then, the red-eyed man offered relievedly/You have the whole day off./

/Sure, Harry nodded, sipping his white coffee/Any suggestions what I should be doing in my free time or would you rather wait for what I can come up with/

/Lucius asked me on behalf of his son, if Draco could spent some time here, since his mother is off to France with one of her friends, Tom answered, gauging Harry's reaction carefully/Maybe you would like to let him entertain you/

/I would like him to come, the small boy agreed immediately and the Dark Lord didn't miss the hopefulness in his voice, nor the jealousy that rose in his own chest.

"Good", Tom stood up, holding out his hand expectantly, "Since it looks like the others have abandoned us, how about I help you find one of the male Lestranges so that you can start on your first lesson?"

It was true, somewhere in their long conversation in Parseltongue the Death Eaters had decided that this was most likely a private talk or more likely a marital row (that they were **hissing**at each other did nothing to reverse the effect) and had left them alone.

Harry took the offered hand and let the taller man guide him out of the breakfast hall through the large door that was even higher than two Voldemorts. Just outside stood Rabastan, obviously waiting for them, casually leaning against the stone walls, pushing away when he saw them and straightening up.

"Mylord, Mr. Potter", he inclined his head gracefully, "If you don't have other plans, my brother and I would be delighted to commence with the training."

"I would like that", Harry replied shyly.

"Good, Harry, I'm afraid, I won't be able to give you the tour right now, because I have a meeting with Fudge", Harry grimaced compassionately, "If you have any questions or need help with anything, you can ask either Lucius or Severus", Harry nodded, "Harry", he lowered his voice so that Rabastan, who was staring out of a nearby window, couldn't hear him, "Are you in any pain from yesterday night? Should I ask Severus for a salve?"

"No, Tom, I'm fine, but thank you", Harry stood on tiptoe so that he could brush Voldemort's cheek with his lips, "Don't worry about me, I can look after myself."

"I know", he returned, pressing his lips on Harry's scar, "Rabastan, you will keep him safe and see to it that no-one hurts him in any way, understood?", he didn't wait for an answer and walked away- he was in a hurry, he would be meeting with Fudge in less than half an hour.

"Yes, Mylord", the Death Eater nodded, "Mr. Potter, if you would please follow me?"

Harry walked beside him obediently (which seemed to unnerve the brown-haired man slightly), not paying much attention to his surroundings, while he tried to get a picture of Rabastan. He was pretty sure, he would like him more than Bellatrix, but he liked virtually everybody more than the heavy-lidded woman, so that didn't say much.

"My brother is setting up the room, so that we can start almost immediately", Rabastan interrupted the long silence, "Do you have any experience with martial arts? Other than being able to dodge curses?"

"My cousin boxes and he showed me some of his punches and stuff, but he isn't very patient, so I only learned the basics", Harry didn't like such questions, it reminded him of how weak he really was.

Dudley wasn't all that impatient, he just concluded that Harry was too weak and little for boxing, after he had accidentally knocked him out for the fourth time. Truth be told, he hadn't lost consciousness at all, however it always made pretending he didn't feel the pain easier, when his uncle had some "fun" with him.

"Well, I think it's still something we can work with", the brown-eyed man decided, closely surveying the boy from the corner of his eye, "We are almost there now, it's just down the stairs."

The Gryffindor reluctantly walked ahead down a rather narrow and dark passageway. He blinked furiously, when he stepped down the last step and was instantly blinded by the bright light. _This is not good,_ his mind supplied helpfully: there was a Death Eater behind him, another somewhere in front of him and he stood there like a deer caught in headlight, with no idea how the room, he was in looked like or if there was anywhere he could escape to.

"Mr. Potter, I hope you like our training rooms", he heard a smooth voice to his left and when he blinked his eyes once again, he found that they had already adjusted to the light.

To his surprise they appeared to be no longer in the castle itself, but somewhere outside. It looked like a little clearing, which was still large enough to have ample operation space, surrounded by all kinds of trees, though for the most part they were deciduous trees, and the ground was covered by soft, short grass and small nests of flowers.

"Are we still inside?", Harry asked astoundedly, slowly rotating so that he could get a good look at everything.

"Yes", Rudolphus replied, smirking (a facial expression, which all the Death Eaters seemed to like a lot), "In fact we're in the dungeons. Most of what you see is an illusion, though the grass under your feet is substantial as is one of the trees and the rock you can see in the far corner."

"It looks great", Harry exclaimed, smiling happily, "But wouldn't it be much easier to just go outside? I mean there is a garden, isn't there?"

"You're correct, but it's more like a jungle and while we need a place where you feel at ease with yourself and your surroundings, we don't want to be attacked from behind", Rabastan explained, removing his shoes, "How about we start now?"

The black-haired boy nodded, still at awe with this room: "We'll first show you some basic stances, Mr. Potter, if you would remove your shoes and your socks?", demanded Rudolphus.

"You can call me Harry, if you want, Sir", the boy said, as he did as told, putting his shoes neatly next to the four bigger ones of the Lestrange brothers.

Neither of the older men replied, however they exchanged a look, Harry wasn't sure he interpreted correctly, and ordered him, even though politely, to watch them closely, while they made some simple moves.

The first two hours or so passed dreadfully slowly with the two brothers correcting everything from the way he made his fists to how he should move his legs. But the worst was that they kept touching him, which made him really nervous, and he had a hard time not to wince or shy away every time they did this. And in all honesty the few moves and stances, he had to repeat over and over again, weren't very captivating. Finally the Lestranges were satisfied with his progress so far and decided that Harry should try some of the kicks and punches on person for the remaining time.

"Stop!", Harry exclaimed, as Rudolphus got into position, "You expect me to **hit**you? I can't hit you, Sir. I'll hurt you!"

The two brown-haired men shared another smirk- they seemed to do it a lot: "I already threw up some protection spells, Mr. Potter, and now begin!"

The green-eyed wizard still looked doubtful, but got into position opposite from Rudolphus and started with some easy punches, directed at his stomach, careful not to come into contact. He repeated that a couple of times, until Rabastan reproached him for this course of action and hustled him forward.

Harry eyed the distance between Rudolphus and him warily, before he hesitantly aimed another punch at the hard stomach. His fist connected with the taught muscles and he looked up fearfully, as he didn't feel any magical shields, but the brown-haired man only nodded and Rabastan urged him to continue. So he carried on with the punches and then proceeded with one of the kicks, they had shown him earlier.

It all went well, till the brothers demanded that he should direct the last few kicks to Rudolphus' chin instead. Considering that Harry only reached up to it, if standing on his tiptoes this was as good as impossible. But Harry was never one for giving up- one of the reasons, he was still alive- and so he once again checked his stance and then after taking a deep breath, made the same move again, aiming as high as he could, forcefully keeping his eyes open (it wouldn't do to have them reprimand him for this again). To his immense surprise, and obviously to that of the Lestranges' as well, his bare foot actually connected with Rudolphus' face, unhinging him, splitting his lip. On top of that Harry wasn't able to regain his footing and when Rabastan tried to stabilise him, they all tumbled down to the grass, Harry's weight on his chest, knocking the breath out of the younger brother.

"Oh, Merlin, I'm so sorry, Mr. Lestrange, Mr. Lestrange, I'm sorry, it was all my fault, Sirs, did I hurt one of you?", the small wizard scrambled away from the two, his eyes widened in fear.

"I'm fine", the younger of the two brothers replied, massaging his chest, "What about you, Rudo?"

"I'll definitely survive, though it was quite a kick, Mr. Potter", he smirked, "Are you okay, Mr. Potter?"

"I'm sorry, you're bleeding Mr. Lestrange", Harry tentatively stood up, ignoring the question, and stepped over to Rudolphus, gently turning his head so that he could examine the wound, "I feel so bad about this. You should cool it till it stops bleeding. Dobby?"

At once the small elf appeared with a plop, immediately bowing: "Master Harry is wanting something?"

"Yes, Dobby, can you bring me some ice cubes to cool Mr. Lestrange's lip?", the Gryffindor asked, missing the confused glances the two brothers exchanged.

The house-elf nodded eagerly, plopping away and returning seconds later with a few ice cubes wrapped in a towel.

"Thank you, Dobby, will you greet Winky from me?", Harry thanked him, handing the towel over to the older Death Eater.

A huge smile split Dobby's face and after shaking his head in the affirmative he vanished again.

"Mr. Potter, what is going on and could you eventually answer the question?", scowled Rabastan and his brother nodded approvingly.

"Are you sure you are alright, Sir?", insured the green-eyed boy himself, avoiding the question once again.

"We're fine!", spat the Death Eater, "Now, answer the question!"

"Don't scream at me!", Harry snapped back, "And don't order me around! What do you think you were doing? You told me that you had up some spells which would prevent anything from happening, and now you have a split lip, Mr. Lestrange! I don't care if you like to be bet up, but I'll not have a part of it, Sir! And you're not much better, Mr. Lestrange."

"Calm down", Rudolphus said, taking the ice cube from his mouth, "We never expected you to really reach my chin, so I didn't have any spells to cover that part of my body."

"You bloody well told me to kick your chin!", Harry fumed, glaring at the brown-haired wizard, "I did everything you asked me to do so far, why did you think I wouldn't do this as well, Mr. Lestrange?"

"We underestimated you, Mr. Potter, and we're sorry that you think we lied to you", pacified Rabastan, "We apologise for both of it. Now would you tell us if you're hurt?"

"My ankle hurts", Harry murmured subduedly, his head bowed.

"If you will sit down, my brother and I will have a look at it", Rudolphus settled on the soft grass, his brother followed suit.

Harry sat down across from them, pointing at his left foot silently, if a bit accusingly. The older Death Eater carefully rolled up his trouser leg to have a better look at the damage done and placed the small foot in his lap. The ankle was a little swollen and sported a unpleasant shade of blue.

"It's seems to be sprained", the younger of the two brothers gave his opinion, "We'll bandaged it up and bring you to Severus- I'm sure he has a cure for this."

"He's with Tom in this meeting with Fudge and Dumbledore", Harry intervened, earning himself two surprised looks, "But I'd appreciate it, if you could bandage it, before I go."

"You won't go anywhere, while you're hurt!", the brothers said simultaneously.

"Won't I?", the green-eyed boy mocked, standing up, not even wincing as he stressed his ankle, "I don't need a baby-sitter, let alone two."

"Our lesson is not yet finished, Mr. Potter!", Rudolphus argued, "Sit down."

Harry laughed harshly: "Is that another one of those situation, where you tell me to do something, but don't really expect me to accomplish it? This time you won't be disappointed, Sir!"

He resolutely walked to the staircase, making sure there was no visible sign of his injury: "Mr. Potter!", Rudolphus sounded a bit less indifferent than normally, but Harry continued on his way.

The two brothers exchanged one of those looks again with which they seemed to be able to communicate the same as with words: "Harry, please wait!"

The small boy stopped and turned around to face them again: "Maybe we could talk for a while, until Severus is back from this meeting?", Rabastan suggested pleadingly.

"What is there to talk about, Mr. Lestrange?", asked Harry warily, but stayed where he was.

"Why don't you sit down again and while we tend to your injury you can ask us some questions?", offered Rudolphus.

"Fine, but don't lie to me. If you don't want to answer just say so", Harry sat down again, sending the two men serious looks.

They nodded simultaneously and started to work at his ankle.

"How old are you, Mr. Lestrange?", the small boy decided to start with an easy question- at least if the Lestranges weren't as vain as Sirius.

"34", "36", they answered at the same time so that all Harry understood was a jumbled mess.

"Beg your pardon?", Harry raised an eyebrow in amusement, "Could you repeat that and this time maybe one at a time, Sirs?"

"Call us by our first names, otherwise it'll get to confusing", Rabastan said after some face-to-face-interaction with his brother, "My brother is 36 and I'm 34."

Harry barely contained his smirk, he had already wondered how long it would take them to realise this or better yet, how long their stubbornness would get into the way: "So, you're the two youngest Death Eaters in the inner circle, right?"

They nodded mutely, while Rudolphus secured the bandage.

"How come you know all this martial arts stuff? It's not exactly a Wizarding thing, is it?", he looked at Rudolphus expectantly knowing it was his turn to answer.

"One of our ancestors lost his magic in a duel to defend the family honour- his opponent had got his sister pregnant and refused to marry her- at first it looked like he would regain his magic with time and he did regain some of it, but he never again came past second year level. Since he had killed the other wizard, his family swore revenge on him and he couldn't afford to have such a weakness. So he went into hiding and learned all there was on martial arts- from books and Masters of the art. Finally he was prepared enough to face his enemies again and when they attacked he won, catching them unprepared for his new skills. They thought he had delved deeper into the Dark Arts than anyone before him, because they just couldn't understand how he defeated them without his wand. They thought his magic was so strong now that it was invisible and deadly. So they called cease-fire. But our ancestor saw the advantage in this and taught his descendants all he knew, they again told their children and so on", the older of the two explained.

The black-haired wizard hmmed, looking pensive. They spent a while in silence, while the Death Eaters waited for Harry to come up with another question.

Eventually they grew impatient: "Don't you want to ask us anything else?", Rabastan asked.

"Oh, sorry, I was just thinking", Harry blushed a little, "At the moment I don't have any question, but if you want to ask me something, go ahead..."

"If I had said yes this morning, would you have dumped the fruit salad on me instead?", Rudolphus asked curiously.

"I don't know. Maybe...", Harry studied him carefully, replaying the scene in his head, "Most likely."

"Good, I don't like fruit salad then", the older Death eater murmured, surprised, as he heard Harry chuckle.

"Good, indeed", he smiled slightly, "Rabastan, do you have a question?"

"Could you always transform into a panther or did you learn to be one?", he inquired, remembering the furious little feline.

"Neither", replied Harry, "I am an natural Animagus, but Dumbledore had blocked my magic for fear I could blow everyone up in a childish tantrum. I only had access to so much of my magic that I wouldn't be physically ill, before I came to Hogwarts. When I accepted my letter he obviously had to give me more of it, but it still was under a tight leash, so I only discovered this ability somewhere last year."

"So Dumbledore released you from the bindings?", Rudolphus concluded, but Harry vehemently shook his head.

"No, the block was based on trust: as long as I trusted him he had access to my magic and could practically do with it, as he pleased", he explained, "When he refused to look into my eyes the whole year, assigned Severus to help me and finally kept the prophesy from me, my trust first wavered and then disappeared completely and with it the bindings."

"You don't seem to be upset about this", Rabastan noticed, "I would be furious, if someone bound my magic."

"I didn't know, I was a wizard, so I didn't miss it then", the green-eyed boy shrugged nonchalantly, "And I never knew about it up until now and now I have it back, what is there to be angry about? I always had enough magic and even if maybe some things would have went differently, if he hadn't done this to me, there's no telling it would have been better, what's done is done. I can't worry about the past, too!"

"I guess it makes sense", Rudolphus finally decided, quirking an eyebrow, as Harry broke down laughing.

"Do you always do that?", he wheezed out between laughing.

"What?", they both said confusedly, exchanging looks.

"You always take turns in talking", Harry clarified, laughing once again, when they threw surprised looks at each other, "You hadn't even noticed, had you?"

"No", they confessed, before Rabastan continued alone: "I guess it's one of the ticks we developed in Azkaban."

"I'm sorry, if I brought back bad memories", Harry apologised immediately, "It just struck me. And it's kind of cute."

Now it was their turn to laugh at Harry's flushed face: "Why, thank you, Harry", the older brother said, "And it's okay, we offered that you may ask us questions, after all."

"Then, if you don't mind me asking, how did you stay sane there?", the Gryffindor asked shyly.

The older wizards seemed to think about it for a while, before Rabastan answered: "Unlike your godfather we weren't in the high-security tract, but somewhere, where the Dementors only patrolled once a day. Obviously torturing two people into insanity isn't as bad as being innocent. Anyway, we also had cells next to each other so that we could remind us of all the good things in our life."

"Do you feel sorry for it?", Harry wanted to know, looking down so that they wouldn't see the desperately pleading look.

"Yes", they said immediately without hesitation, "We're definitely not proud of what we did, but we were desperate to find the Dark Lord and my wife was convinced the Longbottoms would know something about his whereabouts. It was an horrendous act and we at least should have had the decency to kill them."

"Maybe", the green-eyed boy had time to say, before there was a loud gong, which seemed quite unfitting in their pseudo-clearing, and Rabastan explained that is was time for lunch and they should head back up.

Rudolphus extended his hand to the still sitting Harry and pulled him up to his feet, stabilising him, when he was on the verge of losing his balance again. The two brothers led the smaller wizard up the stairs and then they moved to flanking him like two overprotective and not very subtle body-guards. Harry was half amused by their behaviour and half scared by their proximity and them towering over him, still he was grateful, they were there to show him the way through the dark castle.

* * *

**Okay, I'm seriously addicted to your reviews, I can't write without them sobs... Do you have a cure? Or maybe just reviews! Give me reviews! Please!**


	19. The First Day Part Two

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from the Harry Potter books, or I wouldn't right fanfiction, now would I? That's a funny thoought, what if J.K. Rowling really wrote fanfiction? And maybe she'd get a lot of flames, telling her that her characters are totally OOC or something like that (not that that would happen), but that would be funny, though I guess we'd have to wait even longer for the last book...**

**Author's Note: So I've got a warning for you... My friends are coming over for the weekend (yay! I have free until Thursday) and I don't think that I'll write anything while they're here or that I'm going to update. Sorry! But I'd really love to get back to my computer to find tons of reviews and I'm sure then I'd start writing immediately and you'd get the next chappie in no time... #hint,hint#**

**emphasis**

_thoughts_

"speech"

/Parseltongue/

* * *

**19. THE FIRST DAY- PART TWO**

"Hello, Tom", Harry greeted, when they walked into the hall and he spotted Voldemort already sitting at the table, "How was your meeting?"

"Why are you limping?", the black-haired wizard asked back, as he noticed that Harry wasn't straining his left foot quite as much as the other one.

Harry shrugged nonchalantly, while gliding into his chair: "I lost my balance. What's for eats?"

"Rabastan", Tom growled, ignoring his husband, "I thought, I told you that you would be held responsible, if my husband should get hurt."

He twirled his wand between his fingers, before aiming it at the Death Eater's chest, who only bowed his head.

"Tom", the small boy stood from his seat, moving between the two, "You're the only one hurting me."

Voldemort was near gaping. How dare he? Hadn't he been considerate and gentle last night? Hadn't he asked this morning, if he needed anything, if he was hurt? But then he realised how softly Harry had spoken- not reproachfully but as if he blamed himself for his weakness- and that the lightning bolt scar on his forehead had a peculiar colour. And then he remember that his anger **was** hurting his delicate husband. He looked down at him, seeing the pain in his beautiful green eyes and suddenly he felt incredibly guilty- something he wasn't familiar with.

Harry grabbed his right hand and lightly pressed it against his forehead. Tom winced slightly, as he sensed the heat under his fingers and gently pushed him back into his chair. Then he conjured up an icepack and handed it to Harry.

"Would it be better if I went somewhere else, till I have calmed down?", he inquired, watching as the small boy held the icepack to his forehead.

"No, I'll be okay", Harry smiled at him, "Provided, that you don't torture anyone and that I get something to eat."

Tom chuckled softly and snapped his fingers, whereupon their plates filled with Italian pasta with pesto: "So how was your training elsewise?"

They made polite conversation while eating and then Voldemort excused himself, because he had some business to attend to, kissing the top of Harry's head lightly. The Gryffindor moved down the table to where Severus was still eating and since there was no chair available he plopped down in the Potion's Master's lap.

"What are you doing, Potter?", Severus sneered.

"I'm talking to you, Severus", he replied cheekily.

"And why are you sitting in my lap?", Severus noticed with discomfort the peculiar looks they were receiving.

"Because I can't very well sit in Mr. Goyle's lap, now can I?"

"Then you have to stand, Potter, get up!"

"But my foot is still hurting", Harry pouted and Severus sighed, but continued eating around the boy, sitting in his lap, "What did you want to talk about, Potter?"

"Why are you always calling me Potter, Severus? Did I do something wrong?", now that he had acted out on his childishness, he became timid and unsure again.

Severus sighed again, snaking one arm around Harry's waist to prevent him from leaving: "No, Harry, I'm just being my snarky, acid-tongued and bitter self. It's not your fault, Harry, I'll try to be nicer, but I fear I'll relapse once in a while. Can you live with that?"

"Of course, Severus. You don't have to change for me, but please, don't be angry with me", Harry pleaded, snuggling a little closer.

"Thank you, Harry", the Potion's Master answered, "Now, what do you say, should we go to my lab and find something to help your ankle? Can you walk?"

The petite Gryffindor grinned cheekily up at the older man and got up, extending one small hand: "I walked all the way to here. Did you see what Rudolphus did to the room? It's great. And he and Rabastan are quite nice, too, after you get used to them."

They talked- or rather Harry did with Severus making some acerbic comment every once in a while and leading them to his rooms with his potion's lab and store room. He then placed Harry in the high-backed chair behind his desk so that his feet dangled to one side and he could vet it professionally, with one of his salves. After he had applied it, he used a clean bandage to stabilise the delicate ankle again. Severus wondered briefly how skinny Harry really was, when he saw his pale and clearly too thin leg and contemplated to take him to task, but told himself that Harry probably had other problems right now and that he just should observe for now.

"Should we start with your Occlumency training, Harry?", he instead offered, "This way you'll have more free time in the evening and once you've mastered it you'll be able to block the Dark Lord's emotions."

"Occlumency doesn't help in that aspect", Harry corrected him, "Don't you think Tom tried it? I don't feel his feelings, although I can tell them apart if he isn't blocking them, I just feel the pain they're causing. And I already mastered Occlumency in the last month. Simon's mum showed me. You can try me, if you want."

Severus didn't allow Harry the time to prepare for his mental attack and shot the spell at once. To his surprise he couldn't invade Harry's mind at all and instead found a pretty strong barrier, protecting Harry's memories and feelings from him. His face, too, went impassive and his eyes shut down. Severus was impressed and nodded approvingly.

"Am I correct to assume that the Dark Lord doesn't know about this?", he said, scowling, and Harry nodded mutely looking extremely guilty, "Then, we will inform him in the evening. What would you like to do now? I can't start on Leglimency yet, because it requires your wand."

"I don't know, is there anything I can help you with?", Harry asked back, hopping on the desk so that the Potion's Master could sit in his chair.

"Well, normally I would work on a potion, but I don't think that you'd enjoy it as much as I", the black-haired man answered.

"I wouldn't mind at all. I'll help you unless you'd rather work alone", Harry smiled shyly.

"You can help me prepare all the ingredients for the Wolfsbane Potion. I already started it two days after the full moon, but in order for it to be efficient I'll have to add the other ingredients at specific times- it'll make it easier, when everything is already chopped, cut and powdered", Severus relented and after Harry gave him a beaming smile they set to work.

They diligently worked in silence and the Potion's Master explained the use of each ingredient, while Harry listened carefully, asking a question every now and then. Finally it was time for dinner.

As soon as they walked into the hall, which was now illuminated by dozens of candles along the walls and on the long black table, Harry spotted a second silvery blond head next to Lucius'.

"Draco", he exclaimed rushing towards him and hugging him from behind, "I'm so glad you're here."

The blond boy stood, enclosing the little black-haired Gryffindor in his arms on his part: "It's nice to see you, too, Harry. But what have I heard here? You can transform into a really cute black panther? Show me!"

Harry swatted him on the arm lightly: "I'm not cute. See!", he untangled himself and changed into his Animagus-form.

Draco chuckled, when he saw the too big pawns and the huge green eyes, earning him a glare from said eyes. He started to make cooing noises, holding out his hand expectantly. The slender cat rolled his eyes at him, before pouncing and licking the blond's face with his wet tongue, causing Draco to make a disgusted noise.

"You're disgusting, Potter", he pushed the small animal away from him and carefully wiped his face with a handkerchief, "But still cute", he added mischievously, startling Harry out of his laughing.

The small boy huffed indignantly (he had changed back as soon as Draco had started cleaning his face) and sat down in his chair.

"Tom, Severus thought I should tell you that I mastered Occlumency", he said, reaching for the boiled potatoes.

"In one afternoon?", the Dark Lord asked sceptically, raising one eyebrow.

"No, in two weeks", Harry corrected, "And you once again didn't ask me, if I needed lessons, so don't start complaining."

"I wasn't going to", defended Voldemort, "But I will have to revise your schedule."

Harry just shrugged his shoulders.

"That explains why you could close down so completely", remarked Draco, "I was wondering about that."

"I don't close down, Draco", protested Harry, "I just sometimes chose to not wear my heart on my sleeve. If doing so was considered a sign of Occlumency, you'd be a double master of it, Ice Prince!"

"Ice Prince?", demanded the blond, "Whoever calls me that?"

"Everyone", replied the smaller boy, "Honestly, don't you have any spies? The whole of Gryffindor calls you that."

"Oh?", inquired the Slytherin, "What other names did your house come up with?"

Harry didn't want to answer that question. They were only three names the Gryffindors called the Malfoy heir frequently and Ice Prince was definitely the nicest one, mostly used by some amorous girls like Lavender or Parvati. But the blond would peg away at him until he finally answered, still... maybe one name would be enough for him.

"Ferret Boy", he therefor mumbled, "Though that's mostly only Ron."

"What else?", Draco had noticed Harry's unease and didn't believe it was because of such an old joke.

"You don't want to know, believe me", Harry begged, but the grey-eyed boy didn't let up, so he motioned him forward and whispered the insult in his ear: "The Slut of Slytherin."

"What!", the other boy screeched, attracting the attention of everyone at the table, "You and your stupid friends have no right to say something like that about me. **I am no slut**, Potter. But do you want to know what we call you? The Whore of Gryffindor, it surely is more fitting than your little name for me."

"I never called you that, Draco", Harry's eyes were filling with unshed tears.

"Yes, of course Saint Potter would never use such vile words- you only whispered it in the ears of your customers and they spread it", he spat, too much into his anger to take note of the tears that ran down Harry's pale cheeks.

Voldemort however saw them and in addition to the jealousy that had flared up at the mention of someone else touching **his** Harry he also felt anger at the Malfoy kid for making his small husband cry.

"Mr. Malfoy, you're excused from this table until such a time, when you have learned some proper table manners", he growled menacingly, startling the blond out of his rage, "Maybe you can join your aunt in that task. And now out!"

Against all rational thoughts, he possessed, Draco didn't hurry through the next door, murmuring an apology, but moved to the boy, he had just insulted and seemingly hurt badly and who was huddled up in his chair.

"Harry", he crouched down next to him, "I'm sorry. I was just so angry, I didn't think rationally. This however gave me no right to say those things to you, they are not true and everyone knows it. Everyone knows, those are only stupid rumours, created by attention-seeking, dim-witted people. But half of the school really thinks that I'm a slut and that's why reacted so badly. Can you forgive me, Harry?"

"I never called you that, Draco", Harry whispered brokenly, "I even tried to stop them from using it. They are only jealous. They girls, because you don't spare them a glance and the boys, because the girls don't care about them anymore when you're anywhere near. But I thought you were my friend, how can you say something like that? Why do you treat my like I'm a whore?"

"Harry, no!", Draco exclaimed shocked, "You're no whore!"

"How would you know, Draco?", the other boy sneered bitterly, "You don't know shit about my life! For all you know, I could have been selling my body for years now!"

"No", Draco chuckled, although Voldemort was far from amused, "Malfoys don't associate with whores, Harry. And now don't be angry at me anymore, please? Dudley will surely kill me, if I spoil your appetite."

"You're impossible!", laughed Harry, wiping his face, and readily accepted the change of subject, "How do the other Slytherins cope with you day in day out?", the blond opened his mouth to protest, but Harry cut him short, "That was rhetorical. Now, what should we do this evening?"

"You will do your homework", Tom interrupted, eager to seize back the control of the whole situation.

"I already did my homework, Tom", Harry informed him mildly, "You can read them, if you want, though I already let Severus check my Potions essay, Remus corrected the Defence and Astronomy papers, Neville looked through my Herbology work, Sirius read through Transfiguration and Narcissa checked my Charms homework, but if you'd like to tell me your opinion on the others, feel welcome to do so."

"Why the hell have you already completed all those essays?", Draco said, speaking out what everyone had thought, "And why did you do the work for Astronomy, I thought you didn't want to continue that course."

"That doesn't mean that I will just forget everything, I learned so far and I was bored", shrugged Harry, "So, what will we do?"

"We could play chess", Draco suggested, still stunned from this revelation, but the black-haired boy grimaced and said: "I don't like chess, I always lose."

"I'll teach you", offered the grey-eyed boy generously.

Harry shook his head: "I know all the rules and Ron even told me some of his tricks, I just don't like to sacrifice my pawns- it makes it a little difficult to navigate. Why don't we play Quidditch?"

"It's already dark!", objected Tom.

"And your point would be?", Harry raised one single eyebrow.

"Maybe we should just go to the library and you could help me with my Defence essay", Draco proposed, feeling that perhaps they had riled the Dark Lord enough for one day, "I had some difficulties to find anything about grims."

"And what am I supposed to do?", Harry pouted, though he wasn't really upset.

"I have here some letters from your friends and your godfather", Tom handed over three envelopes, one with a lot of sparkling embroiderers, "I fetched them for you from the owlery."

"Thank you, Tom", he brushed his pink lips against the Dark Lord's cheek, while standing up, "I'll see you later?"

Voldemort nodded absent-mindedly, not yet used to the small kisses, his husband gave him every once in a while. He wondered, if maybe this was a sign of his affection, but most likely he only didn't want him to get envious, when he kissed his other Death Eaters or the Malfoy kid. It was obvious that Harry liked them all very much, he just wasn't sure, if Harry liked him even a little bit. He would have to work that out better sooner than later and definitely before someone else won Harry's heart. He snorted, receiving a surprised look from Lucius, but ignoring it, Harry's heart, Salazar, he was getting sappy, what did he care for Harry's heart? He only married the boy for political reasons and the clause that Harry had to have sex with him once a week, was only, because it was the easiest form of control, he had on that boy. Admittedly he was a good fuck, but no way was he obsessed with that boy.

Never mind the fact that he was worried because Harry hadn't eaten nearly as much as was normal for a growing teenage boy (it was impossible that he should already have reached his final height). Never mind the fact that his small husband looked absolutely innocent and desirable, sitting in one of the dark green armchairs in the library, with a letter held in his small hands, a gentle breeze from the open window tousling his raven locks and his snowy white owl, sitting on one of his delicate knees. Never mind the fact that his heart lost a little bit of its ice crust, when Harry looked up at him and smiled slightly, before he turned back to his letter. Never mind that Lucius seemed to find it highly amusing that he took the armchair closest to Harry and that he glared at the younger blond, who was sitting at a nearby table, doing his homework, asking Harry a question every now and then. Nope, he did not care in the slightest for Harry, he just didn't like sharing.

If Lucius' smirk was any indication, he wasn't very convincing. Damn, why had he have to make Lucius his second-in-command? It would do him good to torture the blond right now, release some tension. Lucius' smirk grew, as if he had read his mind, which of course was impossible. He focused his attention on one of the reports in front of him, this one from a lesser Death Eater who was based in France- why he was also writing in French was beyond him.

"Who are those letters from?", Draco asked, after a while in which Voldemort had forbid himself to even glance at his husband, who now was responding to the letters, "And can you tell me what skin colour a grim has?"

"Sirius and Remus, Luna and Neville", Harry replied, not looking up, "And the skin colour is mostly black, since their fur is mostly black, too."

"I can't understand why you keep in contact with Loony Lovegood, she's completely of her rocker", the blond boy scoffed and wrote some more on his parchment, "Are their crawls or their teeth poisonous?"

"You don't have to understand, Draco. She just helped me a lot last year", the black-haired youth returned, "And neither teeth nor crawls are poisoned."

"How do you know all this stuff about grims?", Severus demanded, who had his large nose stuck in a huge tome most likely about potions, his right hand, noting down something every once in a while.

"I thought Sirius was a grim in third year", Harry said, sealing one envelope and starting on the next letter, "Since Hermione refused to research anything that could even loosely be connected to Trelawney, I had to do it myself."

"But I couldn't find any information on grims in our whole library", Draco scowled, miffed.

Harry looked up surprised: "But I checked some of my information in your library!", he uncurled from his seat and disappeared in one of the aisles.

Two minutes later he stepped out of another one, with a thick tome pressed to his chest, and dropped it in front of Draco.

He leafed through some pages, leaning over the blond, which made Voldemort jealous again, before he pointed at a black-and-white drawing of a bear-like black dog with long canines and glowing yellow eyes: "Maybe you didn't find it ,because the term for grims is usually Sinistros (1). There's a whole chapter on them and since I found most of the facts, printed there, also in other books, I'm pretty sure they're correct."

Draco nodded appreciatively and began reading. Harry continued with his second letter, while Severus read his own book, Lucius worked on his monthly financial statement and Tom read through another report- this one thankfully in English- and sneaked glances at his spouse.

"Draco?", Harry spoke, after he had attached the finished letters to Hedwig's leg and sent her off, "How long will it take you to finish that essay?"

"We can do something else, if you want to", Draco agreed at once- the prospect of spending time with the Gryffindor was much more alluring than doing his homework- but his father had other plans and told him to complete his work before doing anything else: "I'm sure Harry will find something to occupy him for the time being."

Draco scowled darkly, but went back to work, too used to obey his father to do anything more to express his disaffirmation. Harry on his part just smiled at Lucius and childishly stuck out his tongue at Draco and then walked into one of the aisles.

The library was really huge, bigger than that in Hogwarts, though that was probably due to the amount of books on Dark Magic here that innocently occupied half of the ceiling-high shelves. Maybe it was just him, but Harry couldn't detect any system in the way the books were arranged and so he just wandered aimlessly, till he found a section with rather old looking potions books. Opposite of them were newer potions books and after he check the index of four of them he found one with the recipe of the Wolfsbane Potion in it. He took this one and one of the older ones that promised to give him a good overview of simple healing and pain-relieving potions. He knew that Remus was in pain every time he transformed, but that he couldn't take any potions for fear of destroying the effects of the potions. It was clear in Harry's mind that he was no where near as apt in potions as Severus and that his professor had already tried to combine a pain-killing potion with the Wolfsbane, but Severus had other things to do as well and couldn't sacrifice so much time on this one potion. Harry had already looked through some books in Malfoy Manor, eliminating all the potions he had tried to combine so far, although he only attempted to do so theoretically. Still, maybe the next healing potion would work.

He sat back down in his armchair, noting absent-mindedly that Tom was following him with his eyes, and started to exchange ingredients with other ingredients so that the potion wouldn't blow up in someone's face or loose its effect. The older book proved to be of great help, because the potions in there were listed with substitute ingredients, should the patient have an allergy to one of the normal ones. He choose a potion that if brewed correctly would alleviate the pain for twenty-four hours and that was not too difficult to make, but needed a lot of ingredients. Severus had explained to him that afternoon which ingredients were used to stabilise other ones so that the potion wouldn't explode, when you mixed them together, but as it was most of those stabilisers that didn't go well with the ingredients of the other potion, he had to find a substitute for them.

"Severus?", Harry had double-checked what he had written down and hadn't been able to find any mistake, although it now looked like a completely different potion, "Can you tell me, why this doesn't work?", he walked over to the dour-looking man and gave him the new recipe.

The Potion's Master scanned the parchment: "And what is this potion supposed to be?"

"Wolfsbane", Harry explained, leaning against the black armchair Severus occupied.

"But you exchanged almost all of the ingredients!", exclaimed Severus, "And you can't use sandalwood to balance the last step."

"I left the aconite, which I think is the key ingredient, because everybody from Remus' pack is allergic to it, and the book I used, said that sandalwood can be used in this case, if you don't stir counter-clockwise", argued Harry, "And all the new ingredients have the same properties as the old ones only that they don't react badly with the other ones."

"What book is it you used", the Potion's Master inquired, not commenting on the recipe otherwise.

Harry knew that if the sandalwood couldn't be used as a stabiliser the whole thing wouldn't come out even, since every other known stabiliser would react with the other ingredients, so he fetched the book from his seat and gave it to Severus: "It's by Salazar Slytherin."  
"It's in Parseltongue, Harry, I can't read it!", remarked Severus.

"You can write in Parseltongue?", Harry asked surprisedly and since he was looking at Tom enquiringly, the red-eyed man nodded: "If you want, I can read it out for Severus, this way we can be sure that you made no translation mistake."

The smile, Harry bestowed upon him, was enough to justify the lack of coldness in his voice. The book looked far to heavy for Harry's thin arms, he noted a bit dazed, preoccupied with the way his young husband gracefully moved to his armchair and flipped the book open, pointing at a paragraph on the left side. He skimmed it curiously, finding that Harry's claim was correct, before he began reading it out loud in English.

Severus listened with rapt attention, if what Harry had said was really true... oh, the possibilities! The recipe in his hand, albeit completely different from the original one, should cause the same effect plus numbing the pain. He was quite surprised Harry had come up with something like that, because even if there was no way to tell, if this would really work, until they had tested it on person- or in this case, werewolf- the small Gryffindor must have put a lot of work in this, gained a lot of knowledge to be able to do this.

Lucius was amused to see his best friend's mask crack a little, when the Dark Lord's smooth voice affirmed what Harry had claimed, and then catapult himself out of his seat, deserting them without a backward glance or explanation, the recipe clutched in his hand.

"Is he alright?", Harry asked uncertainly, starting to put Severus' things away, carefully marking the page, he had been reading.

"Don't worry, he'll lock himself in his rooms and work, till he perfected that potion or till his whole lab is in shambles", Lucius smirked knowingly.

"That doesn't sound too healthy, either", Harry murmured so low that no-one caught it and placed the two books, he had used, back into their respective places.

"Should we retire to our rooms as well?", Tom asked, but since he was already standing up, it seemed more like an order.

"Okay", answered Harry timidly, "Good night, Lucius, Draco", he kissed both of the blonds, "I'll see you tomorrow", the petite black-haired boy slipped out of the library, Voldemort following suit, after he had nodded to Lucius.

He caught up with his smaller husband with two long strides and took hold of Harry's pale hand, perhaps a little too tightly, falling in step beside him. Tom noticed displeasedly that Harry no longer seemed at ease, like in the library, with only him around. Did he think he would take him against one of those cold stone walls? Surely not, that was so beneath him, although, if Harry begged him to- well he couldn't say no to such a suggestion, right? But he got side-tracked and Harry didn't look to be in the mood to ask him right now- if ever. Maybe it would help, if he let go of his hand? He quickly dispersed of that thought, after all Harry hadn't protested, had he? _But, you know, Harry hasn't protested once since he's here_, that annoying voice in his head butted in and he could see himself smiling tauntingly at himself, _that is by no means a sign of his consent, or do you really think, he enjoyed it last night? Didn't look like it for me..._ But he would have told him, if this wasn't okay, wouldn't he? Tom sighed inaudibly and gave himself the answer: Harry had no way to refuse him, he was completely at his mercy. Strange, a few months ago, he would have cackled evilly with glee and exploited this situation and Harry, till he was manipulable like a rag doll on strings, his to use, his to take, his to destroy, now however, this was the last thing he wanted- though, he told himself, this was only to achieve his political goal, nothing to do with Harry. Somehow he got the feeling that he was fooling himself.

Unbeknownst to him Harry had similar thoughts. Not the part about the wall, but he too wondered, how he should act now that they were alone and nearly in the privacy of their rooms. He couldn't actually deny Voldemort if the black-haired man decided that Harry and he should do something more than just sleep. After all they were married, right? Even if he never wanted this, Tom had been more than nice and deserved to enjoy this, enjoy him, if he wanted. Before the wedding, he had decided to make at least one of them happy, no matter at what cost and since the contract and his own happiness didn't go together, Tom would be the one. Still he hoped that his husband wouldn't expect him to pleasure him, like his uncle had, because he was not sure, if he could handle that for the rest of his life, with no means to escape. Harry was so lost in thought, he hadn't even noticed, when Tom had grabbed his hand or that he was reluctantly letting go of it a few minutes later, as they reached the door to their rooms.

"Harry?", Tom stopped his hand, before it touched Harry's shoulder, "Are you alright?", he asked concerned, when the younger wizard just stood in the middle of their living room with his head bowed and worrying his bottom lip, "Can I do anything for you before we go to bed?"

"No", Harry all but whispered, fiddling with the hem of his tee-shirt, "Do... Do you want anything?"

Had he heard correctly? Had Harry just offered that he could take him again this night? Why would he do something like that? More importantly how should he react to such an opportunity? There was no denying the fact that he had fantasised about the boy's body beneath and around him, writhing with desire and making those noises again, all day, but as his subconscious had pointed out so helpfully, it was hardly what Harry wanted. So the question was whether he should exploit that offer to the limit or act like a gentleman and pretend he hadn't understood what Harry had been implying.

"No, thank you", he replied politely, against his libido, "Why don't you change into your pyjamas, while I sort out these papers?"

"Okay", the small boy nodded and shuffled to the bathroom, closing the doors behind him.

Tom heard the lock click shut and settled (more like threw) himself in one of the dark green armchairs, sorting his papers with the swish of his wand. This marriage proved to be more complicated than he had anticipated!

"Tom", Harry's small voice asked from the bedroom and he couldn't help but laugh, as he saw his petite husband, almost being swallowed by the too big pyjama, "What? What is so funny?", Harry sounded mildly irritated and a little hurt.

"Well, I would assume that you were wearing my clothes, judging from the size, however then at least the colour wouldn't be so ghastly and there wouldn't be more holes than necessary", Tom chuckled, walked past Harry into the bathroom, where he began to brush his teeth, leaving the door open.

"My pyjama has no holes!", Harry argued, crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly, "And I like the colour!"

"Oh?", Voldemort raised an amused eyebrow, after he had rinsed his mouth, "And how would you call that colour? Grey? White? Green? Blue? Yellow? Pink?", he stripped down to his boxers in one swift motion, relishing in the soft gasp that emitted from Harry and the brief glimpse of his blushing face, before he disappeared from his sight.

After he had changed into his own black silk pyjama bottoms, he followed his husband. The sight that met him was one, he would never forget: The bed was huge, with black silk coverlets and drapings and two black pillows. Harry laid on the right side of the bed, the covers reaching up to his chin, and he was hugging the white teddy, Lucius and Narcissa had given to him. His bright green eyes stared back at him, as he carefully approached the bed. He slid under the covers on the other side, causing Harry to turn around so that he could face him again.

"Will you tell me about your day?", he asked gently, eager to lessen the fear in those eyes, "How was your training with the Lestranges?"

"It was interesting, though I'll probably be sore all over tomorrow. They just showed me some simple moves and such and after I sprained my ankle, they let me asked some questions", him Harry informed, snuggling closer to the teddy bear, "I like them."

"Would it be alright for you to have martial arts training instead of Occlumency and Animagus training?", Harry nodded affirmatively, "What would you like to do tomorrow?"

"I don't know, perhaps you could show me the castle and the garden?", the black-haired beauty suggested unsurely.

"Of course, Harry", he smiled almost lovingly, "And now we should sleep. Good night."

"Good night, Tom", Harry returned relieved and closed his eyes, having no intention whatsoever to sleep.

**

* * *

****(1)Sinistros is actually the French word for grims**

**You read it, so review! Now!**


	20. Personal Nightmares

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I have to admit that neither Harry Potter nor his friends and not even his enemies belong to me (though what would I want with Dumbledore anyway?). I don't make money with this and I really mean no offence.**

**Author's Note: I did it , I did it #dances around the table# hits her head on the lanp# OW! Well, I did it nonetheless, I wrote the next chapter! yay! I really had a bit of a problem with what should happen next and so I decided to just leave it out and jump a bit ahead. Problem solved! I had no idea how to write even more about Voldie's wonderous journey through denial-land #shrug#. Well, anyway, thanks for all the wonderful reviews. Keep up the good work and enjoy...**

**20. PERSONAL NIGHTMARES**

It was Tuesday once again, to be exact the third Tuesday Harry would be spending in Slytherin Castle with his husband and his henchmen (this particular term made Lucius scowl every time he heard it, because according to him "Malfoys don't do henchman", which gave Harry all the more reason to use it within the blond's earshot, then teasing him about getting wrinkly lines). Everyone had got used to Harry (except Bellatrix for she was banned from the table, as well as from one hundred meters from Harry) and they had established a kind of routine: Voldemort would wake at exactly half past seven, take a shower and get dressed, then come back into their bedroom, kiss Harry's forehead and wish him a good morning or on Mondays after they had had sex say that he was sorry, using a new endearment everyday. Harry would open his eyes as soon as Tom left their rooms and take a shower of his own, on Mondays scrubbing his skin with more vigour than was necessary or healthy. He then would go down to join the others at breakfast. He would kiss his husband on the cheek murmuring a soft "good morning", greet Lucius, take the blond's white coffee, kiss him in thanks, ruffle Draco's hair or if Draco was faster return the hug, next always was Severus, whom he managed to distract long enough from his notes to get a short "morning" and a grunt in reply to his kiss. He then would move on to the Lestranges wishing them both a "good morning" and since a few days also kissing them on the cheek, after that he would finally take his seat, starting on his coffee and eat whatever Draco had piled on his plate. After breakfast he would either spend some time with Draco or start with his training, eat lunch around noon and once again train or spend time with Draco or sometimes Tom himself, if he wasn't to busy. On Tuesdays the Dark Lord and his husband would spend the whole day together mostly just taking strolls through the garden or some Muggle park and talk. In the evenings they would all sit in the library sometimes joined by Rabastan or in few cases Rudolphus. Around eleven or so Tom and he would retire to their rooms and they would talk about their days, before the Dark Lord would automatically draw him closer with an arm wrapped around his waist and tell him to go to sleep.

There had been few occurrences worth mentioning, amongst them that Harry had somehow and to the surprise of everyone persuaded Severus to wash his hair and that said Potion's Master had developed a new painless Wolfsbane Potion, which Remus was testing at the moment.

Anyway, it was the third Tuesday, and Harry was sitting next to Rudolphus eating his chocolate croissant and sipping his white coffee, listening to Draco, who was telling him of a prank Blaise and he had pulled on his mother when they were younger.

"Shut up, Rabastan, shut up!", Rudolphus loud voice interrupted the peacefulness and Harry winced in response.

The older brother pushed back his chair and threw his napkin on his half finished cheese sandwich.

/Tom, I'm sorry, but I can't spend the day with you, I have to help a friend, Harry stood as well, brushing his lips across Voldemort's cheek/I'll make it up to you, promise, he caught up to Rudolphus, who was almost at the door and grabbed his hand, "Rudolphus, I could need your help, will you come with me so that I may show you something?"

It seemed that everyone was holding their breath, waiting for Rudolphus to explode once more, but instead he just sighed, knowing all to well that protesting against the boy-who-lived would be completely fruitless, and let the small boy drag him through the halls, a foreboding feeling in his guts. Harry didn't let go of his hand until he had closed and locked the door to his and Voldemort's rooms behind them.

"Take of your pullover and lay down", Harry ordered over his shoulder, as he disappeared into the bedroom to find the potions Severus had made for him.

"What?", the older man spluttered, staring at the door.

"I said take of your pullover, Rudolphus", the green-eyed boy repeated, emerging with three potion bottles, "I'm not stupid, I know that you're hurt badly and I will not let you out here, before I've done something for you."

"I'm not hurt", Rudolphus denied stubbornly, "Where did you get that idea?"

"Please, you shout at your brother, wince when Mr. Goyle bumps against your chair, don't lean back like you normally do and you eat cheese sandwich, just so you don't have to spend time on making your usual jam roll, and now tell me again that everything is alright with you", Harry countered, adopting a pleading look, "I know you're far too proud to let anyone help you, but I can see that you're in pain and I can't stand that thought. If you won't do this for yourself do it for me, Rudolphus, please?", he had slowly moved forward and now carefully took of the royal blue sweater at Rudolphus' nod.

Harry had seen the Lestrange brothers shirtless a couple of times already during their training, but still he blushed lightly at the sight of the muscled and tanned chest. He gently turned him around so that his back was facing him- his bruised and bloody back. It looked like someone- Harry had a fairly good guess who this someone was- had taken great care in whipping every part of his back, till the skin cracked and then had continued just for good measure, sometimes also hitting his upper arms. From one broad shoulder to the other you could see some letters carved into the skin, but there was so much blood that they weren't distinct.

"Here, drink this", Harry handed him one of the small vials, " It's a rather strong pain-reliever. I'll have to clean the wounds, before I can bandage them up. Would you lay down, please?"

The tall man did as told, resigned to his fate to be pampered by his Lord's husband and actually quite surprised that Harry's hands weren't hurting him at all as he charily cleaned his back with a wet towel. He relaxed and dozed off a little, his head resting on his arms, Harry's faint humming reaching his ears, he barely noticed, when the young wizard started to apply a cooling salve to his wounds, still humming soothingly.

"Rudolphus", Harry whispered, and the brown-haired man lifted his head slightly so that he could peer into Harry's blushing face, "did she hurt you below the waistline? I can fetch your brother or Severus or anyone really if you don't want me to..."

"I don't mind, Harry", he almost grinned, when Harry ducked his head embarrassedly, and slowly discarded of his trousers and boxer shorts, "You can turn back around."

"You could have warned me", Harry mumbled, but resumed his work, cleaning all the cuts and bruises, "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"You want to know?", he asked back, shifting slightly, when Harry again applied the cooling salve.

"I want to help you", Harry returned simply.

Rudolphus sighed: "You already figured out that it was Bellatrix, didn't you? Well, last night when I came to our rooms, she was really angry and bound me as soon as I set foot into the room. Obviously she had tried to hit on your husband and when he turned her sex offer down, once again, she was furious. So she took out her anger on me, since she couldn't get her hands on you, and in her opinion the Dark Lord would have loved to fuck her, if it wasn't for me."

"I'm sorry, I caused you so much pain", the small boy whispered brokenly and secured the last bandage, "I'll talk to Tom so that he allows Bellatrix to take out her anger on me. And I won't provoke her anymore."

"Harry", he couldn't suppress a wince, as he sat up, "It's not your fault. She did this, before you even came into the picture. The Dark Lord always turns her down- and who can blame him? She's just insane, Harry your presence was only a pretence so that she could live out her bestiality."

"She still hates me a lot, Rudolphus, or she wouldn't have written 'Harry Potter must die' all over your back", Harry sniffed, "And I really hate her."

"She hates everyone", he laughed bitterly, "It's no wonder the feeling is returned. No-one would have married her, if it wasn't for her blood and money."

"Why didn't you marry Narcissa or Andromeda or even Sirius or Regulus? Why did you have to marry an insane woman, who's fifteen years older", Harry asked desperately, rubbing his eyes to stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks.

"I wanted to marry your godfather", confessed Rudolphus, "but in same-sex marriages each partner is juristically on the same level. So my parents feared that, if I had married him, the Blacks, since they're more influential and powerful, would have absorbed the Lestrange family and that it would've disappeared. In marrying a female Black the continuity of the Lestrange name was assured. Narcissa was already betrothed to Lucius- we couldn't mess up to the Malfoys. Andromeda outright refused to marry someone else than that Muggle and so that left Bellatrix for me or Rabastan. I couldn't let my little brother be married to that bitch."

"I'll find a way out of this for you", the green-eyed boy promised sincerely and the older man laughed: "What would we do without you, Harry? You truly want to save everyone!"

Harry mumbled something, Rudolphus didn't catch, before he changed the subject: "I'll need to change the bandages this evening, you can stay here, if you want to. I can give you a Dreamless Sleep Potion so that you may catch up on your sleep."

Their conversation was interrupted by a persistent knock on the door and Harry moved to check who was there.

"Harry, have you seen my brother?", Rabastan asked hastily, trying to peek around Harry's petite form.

"You can let him in, Harry", Rudolphus answered for him and the younger brother pushed past the Gryffindor, knocking the breath out of him and shocking him quite effectively.

"Rudo, Merlin, I was so worried about you", he dropped to his knees beside his brother, finally becoming aware of the white tissue covering half of his body, "Shit, what happened, are you alright. Stupid question. I'm sorry, I should have realised something was off, when you snapped at me. Who did this to you? I'll kill them!"

"Harry, will you explain everything to my brother and stop him from committing murder, while I take a little nap?", Harry nodded and handed him another bottle with Dreamless Sleep Potion and disappeared to fetch the blanket Draco, had given to him, so that the brown-haired wizard would be comfortable on the sofa.

When he came back into the living room, Rabastan was tucking a pillow under his sleeping brother's head and after Harry had given the blanket to him, spread it over him: "Tell me what happened."

"...and so I brought him here and tended to his wounds", Harry finished a good ten minutes later.

"How bad is it?", Rabastan asked worriedly, absent-mindedly rearranging the blanket.

"He'll be fine tomorrow. Maybe a bit sore, but nothing too bad", Harry reassured him, stopping his trembling hand from fiddling with the blanket anymore, "The salve I used will prevent scarring and will allay the pain. I'm just worried what Bellatrix could do to him, if he was return to their rooms tonight. Could he perhaps stay with you?"

"Of course", the older wizard agreed immediately, "though I'm worried she'll try something nonetheless. Our rooms are right next to each other and Rudolphus has the key to my rooms- I doubt that he took it with him this morning."

"Any idea?", the green-eyed boy asked, chewing his bottom lip in thought.

"If you would stay with us, she wouldn't be able to disturb us, but that's not really an option, is it?", he said cautiously.

"Of course it is", argued the slight boy, "I'll ask Tom when I see him at lunch."

"I doubt the Dark Lord will agree to this", the brown-eyed man objected, but Harry just waved it away: "Don't trouble your head about it. Now would you want a tea or something?"

The younger Lestrange brother was more than sceptical and also looked that part, however he knew from experience that arguing with the small wizard opposite of him would lead to nothing but his defeat. They, his brother and he, had spent more time with Harry in the last two weeks than any of the other Death Eaters and though they hadn't been too thrilled, when the Dark Lord had told them of their new task, they had come to value the time, they had with the petite Gryffindor. He didn't know what it was about the youth, but somehow Harry had managed to make them smile and laugh, proud and determined, trust completely without reservation, and if Harry now said that he would convince the Dark Lord to let him stay with two other males, he had no doubt he would achieve it some way, because every Death Eater- well perhaps not Crabbe or Goyle- had noticed that the Dark Lord had a soft spot for his young husband, even though neither of them probably knew. Yes, Harry had changed them all in one way or another. He took a closer look at the young Saviour of the Wizarding world. Harry was small, thin almost to the point of being malnourished, his skin was milky white, even paler than that of the Malfoys, though that only added to the glow he seemed to emit, his hands were small and long-fingered, with white lines on his left hand, which formed words, Harry was always careful to hide, before someone could make sense of them, his eyes were of a vibrant green, often overflowing with tears or with contagious happiness, shadowed by thick black lashes, the same colour as his tousled hair and the thin eyebrows.

"Are you quite finished, Rabastan?", Harry snapped his fingers in front of his face, "You know it is rude to stare, don't you?"

"When was the last time you slept, Harry?", he choose to ignore the comment about being rude, instead focusing on the dark bruises under his eyes.

Harry seemed surprised for a split second, before he faked obliviousness: "I don't know what you mean."

"Of course you do, now answer!"

"I just don't like sleeping", Harry dodged the issue once again, warming his hands on the tea pot, Dobby had brought for him.

"Why not, Harry?", he inquired gently, putting an arm around his shoulders.

"I... have nightmares", admitted Harry lowly, kneading his hands in distress.

"That's okay, Harry", comforted the older wizard, "Everyone has them once in a while."

Harry shook his head violently: "I have them every single time."

"Oh, Harry. Why don't you take Dreamless Sleep Potion? You cannot avoid sleeping completely", Rabastan asked quite worried.

"Doesn't help and I couldn't make enough of it anyway, without Severus knowing", answered Harry, "You get used to it after a while."

"You don't want anyone to know", concluded the older wizard, "But since I already know and since you will be sleeping at my rooms anyway, I'll make sure that you catch some sleep tonight."

"I don't want to, Rabastan."

"Either that or I'll tell your husband", the other wizard stated and Harry went pale as a sheet, "I don't want to blackmail you, Harry, but you have to realise for yourself that you can't continue like this. You have helped my brother, now let me do something for you in return, okay?", he pulled the tight ball that was Harry closer to his body, "I won't tell anyone what I may hear, that's a promise."

Harry nodded slightly, snuggling closer.

"Neither will I", Rudolphus intervened from the sofa, finally awake again, "We should go down for lunch, I don't fancy, everyone finding out what Bella did to me."

To their surprise only half of the Death Eaters were assembled in the hall, although they were quite late, because they had to be considerate of Rudolphus' condition. Tom was missing as well as Severus, Avery, Crabbe and Goyle.

"Where is everyone?", Harry asked, sitting down in his chair and exchanging his already filled plate (courtesy of Draco, no doubt) with Rudolphus' empty one.

"On a mission", answered Lucius, "He's meeting with some representatives of the vampires in Northern Scotland."

"Is he very angry with me?", Harry asked anxiously.

"I would say it's more of a mild annoyance", corrected the older blond, "But for the details you should ask him yourself, he'll be back in time for dinner."

The rest of the meal was spent in silence, though everyone bare Rudolphus was shooting worried looks at Harry, who wasn't eating anything. The older Lestrange brother on his part was preoccupied with hiding how much it pained him to sit on his battered buttocks.

All in all he was more than grateful to Harry and Rabastan, who half carried him to his rooms, where they just let him sleep as soon as they were alone again. He only vaguely noticed that his brother was trying to convince Harry to take a nap as well and that Harry outright refused for whatever reason.

He felt much better, when they woke him up for dinner and Harry smiled at him, telling him that all of the wounds had stopped bleeding, starting to close nicely. He accepted a vial of pain-reliever nonetheless, but refused his brothers offered hand to support him once again. Harry however would have none of his pride and linked his arms with him, allowing him to bear some of Rudolphus' weight.

"Oh, look who's gracing us with his presence", Voldemort mocked , as soon as they walked in, clearly annoyed, "Did you save this friend of yours?"

"You're being unfair, Tom", scolded Harry, "But if you were trying to ask a question with your sarcasm, yes, I did help my friend."

/Don't start being cheeky as well, Harry, the Dark Lord hissed, switching to Parseltongue like he always did, when he thought their conversation too private/I'm not finished with you yet./

/Too bad, because I'm quite finished with you, Harry followed suit/You agreed that I could help my friends, when they need me, my friend needed me, end of discussion./

/I didn't allow you to just borrow one of my Death Eaters whenever you like and spent the whole day with him, Voldemort's fist connected with the table, rattling the dishes and startling all of the Death Eaters.

/He's my friend, Tom, argued Harry/And you didn't protest/

/So you helped Rudolphus? What did you do for him, huh? How did you **cure** his little ailments? Perhaps, since you seem reluctant to share I should ask him, I'm sure a few well-aimed Crucios will loosen his tongue, Tom threatened sadistically and all the colour drained from Harry's face.

/No, Tom, please, it's not like this, he pleaded/He helped me. You can't torture him for helping me, please, Tom? I already said that I'm sorry and that I will make it up to you. I'm sorry I was so cheeky, please don't hurt him./

/Next time you'll give me more information, before you disappear, Harry, the red-eyed man hissed warningly, mostly pacified.

/Actually... Tom, don't get angry again, okay, he grabbed Voldemort's right hand with both of his smaller ones/We're not quite finished yet. Can I stay at Rabastan's tonight/

/No, Tom answered evenly/You'll spent the night in **our** bed./

/I won't, Harry returned just as calmly/I asked your permission out of respect for you, but I don't need it. I'm not something you own and can order around! I'm your husband! And as such I have the same rights as you: you cancelled three of our meeting so far, because you were busy elsewhere. You have spent two whole days and two whole nights abroad, leaving me with a horde of Death Eaters and Bellatrix, who used that time to hold me under Cruciatus for ten minutes, until Lucius showed up and stopped her. So I think I'm well within my rights to stay with the Lestranges tonight. Deal with it, with that he excused himself from the table.

"Lucius, is it true that Bella cursed Harry, while I wasn't here?", he asked after a while.

"Yes, Mylord", the blond answered dutifully, "He begged me not to tell you."

"Rabastan, after you have finished your meal, you will search for Harry", he sighed deeply, "He may stay in your rooms tonight."

Avery and Nott were openly gaping by now and Crabbe Senior had stopped the attack of his food long enough to blink slowly, trying to decipher the meaning of his words, sadly he gave up before achieving this goal and turned his attention back onto his plate.

"Thank you, Mylord", the younger Lestrange brother inclined his head slightly.

"Rudolphus, I appreciate it that you helped Harry today. You're excused from your sentry tonight", the Dark Lord continued.

"Thank you, Mylord", the brown-eyed man returned relieved- in all honesty he had totally forgotten about it until now.

Tom didn't seem to be aware of this and kept trying to murder his food with his scowl (which was quite useless since the trout on his plate was already dead). Loath as he was to admit it, Harry had been right with what he had said, but at the mention of staying in another man's room for the whole night unbidden images had started to flash in his mind about his Harry enjoying sex with someone else than him, the small wizard sighing in bliss as one of the Lestranges stroked him to completion, the two sharing a passionate kiss, before he slid into his husband, making him mewl like a little cat. Rationally he knew that Harry hadn't done anything of that sort and wouldn't do so in the near future. However where the delicate Gryfindor was concerned he seldom thought rationally. Then there was the fact that Harry had reminded him that they had the same rights, something he had been apt to forget, when he had spent the two nights Harry had mentioned with some nameless whores in hopes it would help him to forget his husband for a while and to assure himself that he was just horny in general and not because of Harry. Needless to say he had failed dramatically.

Two hours later he knocked on Rabastan's door. He had used that time to shout at Bellatrix and crucio her a little, for the disregard of his order, and to work up his courage to come here.

Rabastan opened the door, looking surprised for a short moment, before he regained his indifference: "What can I do for you, Mylord?"

"I have to speak with Harry, if you would fetch him?", the brown- haired wizard nodded and disappeared into his rooms, leaving the door slightly ajar, but not inviting Voldemort in, which was quite uncommon.

"Tom", Harry stepped out of the rooms, closing the door behind him, "What do you want?"

He threw up a privacy spell, before he answered, extending Harry's white teddy and his blanket from his pockets: "I came to apologise. You were right with what you said and I shouldn't have overreacted. I thought you might want your teddy and the blanket, you never sleep without it. I also talked to Bella, I made sure that she understood the rules."

"I know, Tom", Harry brushed away the bangs from his forehead, revealing a trickle of blood that slowly ran down from the reopened scar, "There was a reason I asked Lucius not to tell you about it."

"Salazar", he cursed under his breath, "I should have known this would affect you."

"I didn't tell you", shrugged Harry, "I'll see you tomorrow", he turned his back on Voldemort, but the older man caught his hand before it connected with the wood door.

"Please, don't leave me like this", he asked softly, "I know I made a lot of mistakes today, give me a chance to right some of the wrongs."

"It's okay, Tom", Harry leaned back against the hard chest, relishing in the thought that Voldemort was holding him in a protective embrace, "It's my fault as well. Truce?"

Tom kissed the mop of black hair, resting against his chest, tenderly: "Truce. Are you sure that you want to stay here? I'm sure I could help that friend of yours as well, if you tell me what you need me to do."

"Yes, I'm sure", Harry chuckled softly, looking up at him with smiling emerald green eyes, "Good night, Tom. And thanks for Lami and my blanket."

"No problem", he playfully kissed Harry's nose, "Sleep tight."

**Stop! Where do you think you're going, huh? You can't go to bed now! Voldie-poo said this to HARRY not to you. You stay right were you are! Good! Now, please, tell me what you're thinking? Please? Please? Pleeeease?**


	21. Escalation

**Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling is the proud owner of the Harry Potter universe and I'm only burrowing them. I mean no offense. I make no money (at least not with this). **

**Author's Note: Yay! Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers and thanks to everyone who reads this story. I've got a cold, my eyes hurt , my throat hurts and I had to take a lot of cough syrup, so if this chapter seems kind of weird, it's not really my fault, because to my sick little self it doesn't seem weird.**

**Well, anyway, I decided to leave out the sign explanations, since I trust all of you to either remember them from earlier chapters or to gather it from the context.

* * *

**

**21. ESCALATION**

"I really don't understand why you two look like you didn't get a wink of sleep, when I was the one who was awake all night", Rabastan said, as they walked into the breakfast hall the next morning.

Indeed his two companions looked remarkably like death warmed over, with dark bruises under their eyes. Rudolphus hadn't slept well, because the pain-killer had lost its effect around two o'clock in the morning and he couldn't take another one for fear of becoming addicted. On the positive side however he felt much better now, Harry had renewed the bandage once again, though all the wounds had already closed, the not so deep ones had already disappeared completely, leaving the skin only slightly reddened. All in all he felt more like he had overexerted himself a little.

Harry had been plagued by nightmares. The first few times he started whimpering, Rabastan had thought it a good idea to wake him up and soothe him with a cup of hot chocolate. Harry didn't mind that this way he didn't get any sleep at all, but the younger Lestrange had got into his head to make Harry sleep and so the next time he didn't wake Harry and instead tried to take him in his arms- Harry had reacted so violently, begging to be let go that he had confined himself to murmuring comforting words and to hold him, after Harry eventually woke on his own and his trembling had ceased to small shivers and choked sobs. This had repeated itself twice, before Harry absolutely refused to go back to sleep. Of course he had tried to make Harry talk about his dreams, but Harry would just shake his head every time he brought up the subject. And so he was left alone with his jumbled thoughts, at least until Rudolphus was completely okay again.

Even in his dreams Harry seemed to be holding back, his whimpers were almost inaudible, his pleas incomprehensible, except the few "no"s and "don't"s that broke from his throat like desperate cries of a wounded animal. He wondered how Harry could keep something like this a secret and what secrets he held to have such nightmares. Also it seemed to him like their were to different sorts: the ones were he absolutely refused to let Rabastan hug him for hours afterwards, shying away from the softest noises and the lightest touches, while his eyes were completely dry and the ones after which he cried for hours, winced when touched or when he moved, but allowed Rabastan to comfort him, sobbing in his pyjamas, but not talking, either.

"Don't complain, Rabastan, you insisted that I sleep", Harry grumbled, understandably not in the best of moods, "Morning, Tom."

"Good morning,... Harry", the Dark Lord had hesitated a moment, used to whispering an endearment to his young husband every morning.

But he couldn't do this in front of his Death Eaters, hell, he couldn't even do it, when Harry was aware of it. He eyed the green-eyed boy up and down, noting with some concern that his hands were shaking slightly, as he took the offered coffee from Lucius, but couldn't help to feel satisfied and relieved that **his**Harry obviously hadn't slept so well with the Lestranges as in his arms.

Harry had just finished his usual round, which had taken longer, because he had traded his well-filled plate with Mr. Nott's strawberry jam roll, and then the newly acquired food with Rudolphus cheese sandwich ordering him sternly to eat it, when the double doors burst open and Bellatrix Lestrange stormed in, looking more than ever like a banshee with the small trail of saliva that ran from her mouth and blood-shot eyes.

"Where were you Lestrange?", she snarled, "Where were you all night, we had something to discuss."

"Oh, didn't you know, Bella?", Harry said, gracefully standing up from his seat next to Rudolphus, who was tightly gripping his wand, "We slept together", he walked towards the furious witch with measured steps.

"You little slut, you'll pay for this!", Bellatrix screamed, advancing as well with her wand poised for attack, missing in her fury the calculating look in the green eyes.

"I don't think so, good bye", he said, waving mockingly/Know Thy Enemy/

Beneath Bellatrix' feet the stone began to grind and, leaving her no time to react, dropped with enormous speed and with it dropped the witch, shrieking in terror. Moments later the hole closed again, leaving no evidence, the stone had moved moments later.

"Where is she?", Goyle Senior asked dumbly.

"Why don't you ask her, **if** she comes back?", muttered Harry.

He meant to turn around and retake his seat, but instead he banged into Tom's hard chest. He tumbled back, almost losing his balance, before Tom's hands painfully bit into his shoulders.

"What was that? You slept with Rudolphus?", his red eyes glowed dangerously and he shook the small boy, totally forgetting to keep their conversation private.

His first instinct was to flee, _No, Uncle Vernon, leave me alone, please, no,_ but he couldn't panic, he couldn't or they would find out, they would know, Tom would know and then he would hate him again, _no_. Fleeing would make it worse, _I'm sorry, Uncle Vernon, I'm sorry, I'll be good, please, not again, please_, so instead he moved closer, bringing himself not to flinch or to whimper, and leaned his head against Voldemort's chest in a submissive gesture, his small hands resting next to it.

"I'm sorry, but I only said this to provoke Bellatrix", he whispered, _please_, "Don't you know that?", he pressed even closer, causing Voldemort to step back, another step and one more, he was again sitting in his chair at the head of the table.

Harry slid sideways in his lap, his head buried in the crook of his neck and Tom's strong arms reflexively closed around the pale youth: "I'm sorry I made you angry. I shouldn't have said this, it was uncalled for, please forgive me?", _don't hurt me, please_, "I'll do whatever you say all day long to make it up to you, please?"

"I don't like sharing", Voldemort growled warningly.

"That's good", Harry whispered, nuzzling his neck, "Would you want my sandwich? I don't like cheese sandwich all that much", Harry made an attempt to sit in his own chair again, but Tom tightened his hold: "Stay!", he ordered.

Harry complied, taking his coffee with him, as he leaned back again, cradling the pot between his long, elegant yet slightly too thin fingers. What had he got himself into now? He didn't regret what he did per se and he didn't have another idea at the moment, but still, to do whatever he- Tom, his husband, his enemy- said for a whole day? No, definitely not one of his strokes of genius! He sighed deeply but quietly, so lost in thought that he missed it, when Tom tucked his head under his own or the worried looks Lucius, Draco, Severus, Rabastan and Rudolphus were throwing at him, though to Harry's credit they were doing it very secretly and in a Slytherin-fashion.

"I have a meeting with Dumbledore this morning, which I can't cancel", Tom said, breaking the long silence, which had only been interrupted by the usual eating noises from Crabbe and Goyle, "But we'll spend the afternoon together. What's on your schedule for this morning?"

"Martial arts", Harry tensed and Voldemort wasn't sure, if he did so because of his own feelings or because he himself had stiffened at this new information- no way was Harry going to spend even more time with the Lestranges!

"Not today. Severus will review you and young Mr. Malfoy on Potions", he decided and Harry nodded mutely, "That'll be all for now. Rudolphus we'll talk after breakfast."

"Tom, please", Harry said warningly, preparing to convince Voldemort once again, but Draco sensing the danger, Harry was putting himself into once again, and figuring that the Gryffindor had pushed his luck far enough for one day, intervened.

Oh, he didn't doubt Harry could avert damage from his uncle, he was just afraid what the small boy would take upon himself to ensure it: "Harry, you have to help me find my book", he exclaimed, feigning anxiety, "I put it somewhere... maybe it's already in my trunk? I forgot everything- I don't even know what the key ingredient for Polyjuice Potion is- do you know it?", he rambled quite undignified, but the end justifies the means, and grabbed Harry's hand, dragging him from the Dark Lord's lap and to the door.

"If you don't even know the basics, we should start right now", Severus snapped, obviously catching on on Draco's plan, and swept from the room, his black robes billowing behind him.

The black-haired boy tried to protest, but Draco was quite effectively pushing him through the door, leaving him only the time to throw a pleading look at his husband.

"Why are you doing this?", Harry asked almost desperately, struggling against Draco's hold, "Let me go! I can't just let Tom use Rudolphus to release his anger, he's my friend, he helped me!"

Draco didn't let go though and Severus locked the door to his rooms with a spell: "Harry, will you listen to us? I know my uncle, he can look after himself and he wouldn't want you to risk even more for him than you already have. What did you think you were doing, offering something like that to the Dark Lord?"

"This whole mess is my fault", Harry sobbed miserably, "And now Rudolphus has to suffer because of my mistake."

"You did nothing wrong, Harry", the blond boy argued, brushing one of the black strands out of his face, "What you did was very honourable- stupid, but honourable- you only did what your caring, brave, irrational Gryffindor side told you to do. You and the Dark Lord are complete opposites, it was only a matter of time, till you would clash. I'm sure you prevented the worst and to me the Dark Lord didn't look very angry..."

Harry closed his eyes briefly, as if listening into himself, before a small insecure smile flitted over his pale face: "I think you're right: it doesn't feel like he's angry, definitely not over the moon, but not angry anymore. Do you really think Rudolphus will be alright?"

"Yes. Now that that's settled, we only have to worry about our favourite Gryffindor with a hero complex", the Potion's Master sighed, indicating for Harry and Draco to take the chairs opposite of him, "Have you any idea, what you agreed to, Harry?"

"It's not that bad", Harry voiced under his breath, "What could he possible do that he hasn't done yet? Should we start reviewing?"

"Harry", the Potion's Master started, but Harry cut him off: "Can we not talk about this, Severus?"

The no longer greasy haired man nodded reluctantly and began his lesson, relieved to find that both of his students knew how to answer most of his questions and that Draco hadn't really forgotten the key ingredient of Polyjuice Potion, though his mind wandered more often than no to the small Gryffindor. Why would someone do this for a man, they had barely known a few weeks? And why had he shaken so violently, as he approached the Dark Lord. Did the Dark Lord abuse the small boy? He couldn't wrap his mind around this notion by any stretch of the imagination. Sure the Dark Lord was far from nice, but one would have to be blind, deaf and generally oblivious to not notice the fondness, with which the red eyes rested on the petite wizard. Could it be that Harry's relatives had done more harm than Harry let on? Could it be that the memory hadn't been a one-time occurrence. Salazar, he still felt sick, when he thought about what Harry had told and showed him. He really needed to talk about this with Harry. It was pretty short-sighted to assume Harry would be alright after something like this. And it was even more careless to just let the abuse continue. The Dark Lord might not see it like this, even be more then gentle with his husband, but he was now sure that Harry saw it very differently. They really needed to talk, Harry couldn't keep on brushing everyone's concerns aside.

Meanwhile in the breakfast hall, everyone had finished their breakfast and had gone to do whatever they had to do, leaving Tom and Rudolphus alone. The younger man (Rudolphus, though Voldemort actually looked younger) was quite nervous.

"There are two things I want to talk about", Voldemort focused his red eyes on him, sending chills up his spine, "First, there's a warning: Let's just assume neither you nor your brother have touched Harry in an inappropriate way, which I believe to be the truth or you could now watch the grass grow from a completely different perspective. But should I ever find out that you or anyone else did touch what is mine or if there's anything more than friendship between you and my husband, I will wipe out everyone who shares even a drop of blood with you, before I cut you in so many pieces that each of their graves can have a piece of you as a burial object. Understood?"

"Yes, Mylord", he bowed his head, resisting the urge to shift uncomfortably.

"Good", the other man, brushed off his dress pants casually, "I have another assumption. Do you want to hear it? Well, you see, I think you're Harry's friend. I don't believe this nonsense about you helping him. You're a good actor and surprisingly enough Harry is fairly good as well, but that doesn't mean that I don't notice it, when he's mothering you and you allow it. From Harry's reaction to your wife today, I also assume that she's at least partially at fault, so I have changed the password to your rooms into 'Prometheus', but I don't think we'll see her in the near future, anyway. I'm quite sure Harry with his overbearing Gryffindor qualities has coddled you up, so the only thing, I want to know, is if you're okay now."

"Yes, Mylord", he nodded once again, quite surprised, his Lord had asked such a question.

Sure it had been more of an order and it clearly didn't invite him to elaborate or even answer with "no", but the Dark Lord had just shown more concern than in the whole year since his resurrection.

"Mylord, before you go...", he hesitated, but Voldemort was already scowling at him and most likely wouldn't take kindly to being delayed and then not even getting to hear anything of importance- he wasn't sure if he considered it important, "Harry did nothing wrong. He doesn't deserve to be punished for being himself, Mylord. I would hate to see him hurt."

"Not that it's any of your concern, Rudolphus", he was already on the way to the door, "But I have no intention to take advantage of Harry, only of the situation", he smirked smugly.

Now there was only the problem what he should do with his husband in the afternoon. Of course it was irksome that he had to go to this teacher's meeting of Dumbledore's first, but at least he had time to come up with something good. And there was no way around it in any event, because he had signed himself to it in this work contract, Nott had supposedly looked through for him, however he had either missed the little detail that he had to be present at every teacher's meeting or he hadn't found it bothersome. Wasn't Severus to come as well? He seemed to remember Severus telling him that he was excused from the meeting in order to have an eye on Harry. Harry, right, what should he do with Harry? Of course they could always take a stroll like the other times, but that wouldn't satisfy him in the least and his husband would probably be so tense that he wouldn't be enjoying it either. He had to think it over and what better time than while Dumbledore was droning on about the following school year, handing out timetables and offering lemon drops? If he forced Harry into doing something, the boy didn't want, he himself would enjoy himself without doubt for that one afternoon, but afterwards he would realise how much he had destroyed in Harry. He didn't want him to hate him again or worse yet fear him. He had worked too hard for Harry's trust to risk it to satisfy his desires for his petite husband. No, that wouldn't do. On the other hand, if he just pretended this was another one of their normal Tuesdays, he would squander this opportunity and that wouldn't be fitting for the heir of Slytherin, now would it? Maybe if he... Yes, that could work out. He would have to ask Nott for the directions, but the lawyer owed him for having to endure this stupid meeting, which thankfully had ended a minute or so ago and since all the other professor stared at him rather than to strike up a conversation he had no reason to stay longer than necessary.

He was already late for lunch and when he stepped into the hall everyone was seated already. Harry smiled shyly up at him, before he turned back to his meal and his conversation with Draco.

"I don't know what you have against Neville", Harry argued, scowling slightly, "He's really nice, you know."

"He's fat", Draco said right back, "And dumb."

"He grew up, Draco, he may have been a bit chubby, when we were eleven, but he isn't anymore and he's not dumb! He has a low self-esteem I admit that, but his spell-work really improved during the last year."

"He's still far below average let alone me", the blond replied haughtily, "And he's an absolute disaster, when it comes to potions. And really what kind of Gryffindor is he, when he's afraid of Sev?"

"What are you afraid of, Draco?", Harry changed the subject, raising an eyebrow, "You don't have to tell me, but you really shouldn't judge a person, if you don't know what motivates their fears. Believe me, Neville has a good reason to be afraid of someone like Severus. But unlike you he has to face his fears every day and still he gets up every morning, he's a better Gryffindor than anyone else I know."

"Fine, but I still don't know him and I surely won't ask him to be my boy-friend", Draco insisted.

"You don't have to", Harry agreed immediately and Draco sighed relieved, prematurely as it turned out, "I'll ask him for you!"

"Don't you dare do this, Harry", he snarled, "I can ask people to a date on my own!"

"But you just said you wouldn't, Draco", Harry smiled innocently.

"It's really unfair you're already married or at least I could set you up as well", the blond Slytherin growled, stabbing his potatoes.

"Just out of curiosity, who would you have tried to set me up with?", Harry asked interestedly.

"Well, first I would have to know whether you like girls or boys."

Harry shrugged helplessly: "How am I to know that? I suppose I don't mind either, if I love them."

"Have you never had a crush on someone?", Draco inquired incredulously.

"I liked Cho Chang since third year, but she got pretty teary-eyed after Cedric's death, not that I blame her, but I'd rather like it, when the someone, I'm kissing, is at least thinking about something happy, even though not about me", confessed Harry, "Since then? No. So who would you set me up with, only hypothetically of course?"

"Me", the blond answered seriously without hesitation, but Harry laughed him off: "Oh, be serious, will you? You can admit that you don't know anyone who would want to go out with me, that's okay."

"Why would anyone not want to go out with you?", Draco asked, more concerned about the Gryffindor than about himself.

"Please, do you think you're fooling anyone?", the small boy said, "There's nothing about me that would compel anyone to want to date me, I'm ugly, barely look like a thirteen year old, probably failed all my OWLs, endanger all the people near me, have a maniac killer after me- sorry, Tom- I'm no pureblood, not that **I** mind, and if you can trust Trelawney, I'll die a horrible and sudden death."

"And you say Longbottom has a low self-esteem!", the blond muttered, "I disagree on all points, except perhaps the pureblood thing and the maniac killer bit, but that's no reason not to date you, Harry! I would ask you to be my boy-friend right now, if it wasn't like signing my death sentence!"

"Really?", Harry asked hopefully, ignoring the growl from his husband.

"Really!", Draco answered emphatically, "Or do you think I'd let just anyone set me up with Longbottom of all people?"

Harry burst into laughter at this, gasping for air, starting anew every time he looked into Draco's supercilious face, finally burying his face in his hands. The Slytherins watched him confusedly.

"Does someone know what is so funny?", Voldemort inquired to his Death Eater, but they had no other response than to shake their heads.

"What are you laughing about, Harry", he reworded his question this time to his husband.

"Did you really think, I would set you up with Neville?", the green-eyed wizard said, still chuckling, "He's straight as an arrow and he and Luna have been together for five month now."

"And that had you laughing your head off?", Draco demanded unbelievingly.

"No, but when I thought about them together, I thought about Luna and then I imaged you two having a conversation...", Harry was laughing again and Lucius' face crossed a look of realisation.

"What were they talking about?", the older blond cocked an eyebrow.

"Definitely not the same thing", Harry smirked at him and Lucius returned the expression: "Indeed. So who are you meaning to be Draco's boy-friend?"

"Excuse me, could you two stop talking about my love-life?", Draco asked annoyed, however Harry just ignored him: "That, my dear Lucius, is for me to know and for you two to find out, when it's too late to do anything about it!"

Lucius mock glared at him: "Cheeky brat!"

"Snob!"

"Imp!"

"Henchman!", Harry said triumphantly, sticking out his tongue.

"How very mature!", the older blond teased, "Not that you earned it, but your owl is at the window!"

Harry craned his neck in order to check, if Hedwig was really there and as he saw the white-feathered bird actually hovering outside, he jumped up to let her in. Hedwig hooted gratefully and perched herself on Harry's shoulder, sticking out a clear white envelope. Harry immediately knew that the letter was from Neville, since Luna's letters never were plain white, but decorated with glittering embroiderers or sketches of what she had supposedly seen and the letters from Sirius and Remus were always delivered by Remus' barn-owl.

_Hey Harry,_

_how are you doing?_

He could clearly imagine Neville's breathless a bit squeaky voice, when he talked about one of his new plants and the family dinner, where his uncle Archie had fallen over a chair and broken his nose. Of course that could be fixed without problems, but his grandmother was still cross about the blood on her carpet. But something was amiss, Harry decided, when he had finished the first three paragraphs, it was almost, as if the other boy was only beating around the bush.

_I visited my parents yesterday with my grandma. Mum talked! She gave me a blowing gum wrapper again, but this time she said "For Lily", can you believe that? I took it and said I would give it to 'Lily' and she nodded and went back to bed. I asked one of the healers there and she said that it was a good sign and that she may finally be recovering. Grandma said that my mum and your mum were good friends before, well, all this happened, so I think the wrapper is for your mum. You don't have to keep it, of course, I just thought I'd give it to you. I still can't believe it! Maybe you could come visit them with me sometime? I've got to go now, sorry, hope you're alright. And you will tell me, if you're not, understood?_

_Bye Neville_

"Harry, is something wrong?", Tom asked, startling him from his thoughts.

"Huh? No, Neville's mum is doing better", he murmured absent-mindedly, a frown marring his face, "I just have a bad feeling that's all. Does anyone now, when my mother's birthday was?"

"She never celebrated her birthday at school if that helps", offered Severus when no-one else gave an answer.

Though he was still angry with his student. Harry had brushed him off- again. He had wanted to talk about Harry's quite obvious problems, he had sent Draco ahead, he had warded his rooms so that no-one would be able to eavesdrop and Harry had brushed him off, saying that he was fine, that he had it under control, that he didn't need any help. Not even, when he brought up that dratted godfather of his, did he react, just repeated his mantra and nothing he did or said got another reaction. Harry had completely blocked him out. It was obvious that he didn't want any help- Stupid, stubborn Gryffindorks!

"Not really, but thanks anyway", Harry sighed, folding the letter and putting it back into the envelope, careful to not crack the wrapper, "So what do you want to do this afternoon, Tom?"

"That's a surprise", he smirked down at his smaller husband, "How about we leave in half an hour? I still need to fetch some things and you can reply to your letter."

Harry nodded obediently, before he excused himself from the table and went to the library, where he kept his inkstand.

* * *

**Okay, someone pointed out a while ago that I should try writing two stories at the same time (I can't remember the name, sorry, but if you tell me I'll make sure to thank you very officially for giving me that idea), so now here I have a few suggestions, though I won't post this story until this one is finished. I might not even write it. At the moment I just have the initial situation and I like to have everything planned out, before I start a story, so I'm only trying to find out in which pairing your most interested. Then I'll start looking for ideas and then maybe I'll start writing. But I can promise you that it won't interfere with this story, if I am not able to post everyday that will most likely be due to school, this absolutely unnecessary institution. So just tell me what pairing you like best:**

**1. Tom/ Harry again (I really like that pairing, but the idea that I have sounds a bit like a story, I've read the summary, and though I'd rather write something else...)**

**2.Draco/ Harry (postwar, slave-fic: that's an idea I cam up with a long time ago, so I don't know if I'm still able to come up with a complete story...)**

**3. Sirius/ Harry (it's a bit like this one, though of course different since it has a different pairing and different characters in general- though well, it's not all that much like this one...)**

**4. Sirius/ Harry (time-travel; I really like that pairing, mostly because I like Sirius so much... D)**

**5. Draco/ Harry (with Sirius as a father figure, completely AU...)**

**6. Lucius/ Harry (time-travel; blonds are just sexy #smirks#...)**

**Well, tell me what you think or just review...**


	22. A Day Out

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

**Author's Note: Okay, first of all, you are great! 38 reviews! This is so fantastic! It makes me really happy to read all of them and to know that you love my story! **

**Then I want to thank Melshenia Kari for suggesting to start a second story. Thank you. This was a great idea!**

**And you once again, because you're helping me decide which story I should write next. The actual results are below, but nothing is decided yet.**

**So now enjoy the chappie! Voldie got a clue! Yay!

* * *

**

**22. A DAY OUT**

Voldemort was rather pleased with himself, as he saw his petite husband standing in the entrance hall, waiting for him. He had talked to Nott (really it was much easier to call him Nott than to try to pronounce his Dutch surname- or was is Norwegian?**(1)**- it was ridiculously long and foreign in any case), which had earned him an odd look and sure would cause talk about him going soft, but he was positive, it was the perfect compromise between getting what he wanted and not scaring Harry away.

"Ready to go?", he smiled pleasantly down at the delicate Gryffindor, who eyed the bag he was carrying warily, but nodded, "We'll apparate, if that's okay for you."

"I can't apparate, Tom", Harry mumbled dejectedly, "I'm sorry."

"No need to be, Harry", he liked it, when Harry said his name, so soft and gentle like it was an endearment in itself, an endearment only reserved for him, "What I meant is, that I would apparate us, only if you don't mind, of course."

"What do I have to do?", the raven-haired boy asked unsurely.

He couldn't resist the temptation any longer, nipped his head and captured Harry's lips in a rather sweet and chaste and as he believed unobtrusive kiss, only nibbling his bottom-lip a little, before he drew back and instead wrapped his arms around Harry's slim waist: "Nothing, just keep still and I'll do the rest."

He waited, till the youth nodded and he could be sure, there would be no struggling and then whisked them away.

Bright sunlight assaulted his eyes, as Harry opened them again. It was quite a welcome change to the dark hallways of Slytherin Castle. He blinked twice and started to look around. Not that there was much to see: They had obviously landed in the countryside, behind them was a coniferous forest, in front of them a small rural road, above them the clear blue sky, beneath and all around them grass.

"Where are we?", he inquired, turning around in Tom's embrace, who still hadn't let go.

He noted with some surprise that the normal ruby colour of his eyes was no longer to be seen, but had changed to a dark brown with reddish specks. His own eyes wandered down on Tom's strong, firm form and instead of his usual black robes over black or at least dark dress pants and a dark shirt, he wore tight-fitting dark blue jeans with a black leather belt, and a light blue shirt. He looked damn good- _where did that come from_? He felt very out of place in his baggy khakis and his too loose shirt. He could never look as good as Tom.

"Near the West Coast of England, but we're not at our destination yet", he finally dropped his arms, instead making a grab for Harry's hand, "I just didn't think you'd appreciate it, if I modified all the Muggles' memories who would have seen us pop out of thin air."

"Very thoughtful", Harry murmured so lowly, the Dark Lord was sure he hadn't been supposed to hear it, still he couldn't contain his smirk.

"I thought so myself. Now should we go?", he tugged Harry to the road, "It's only about ten minutes away."

Harry once again nodded obediently and walked beside him, mostly just watching the movement of his feet. Tom didn't like that. Somewhere in a part of his brain, he hardly used, he could recognise Harry's behaviour as nervousness mixed with outright fear and he could even understand that notion, but he still couldn't help to feel disappointed and a tad bit angry. He wasn't going to bring Harry to some sex shop, where he would purchase a whip, manacles and other unpleasant toys to then use his trembling body to his pleasure or even to someone else's, for Salazar's sake! He watched his smaller husband from the corner of his eye, noting distraughtly that Harry had to make three steps to match two of his. The unruly black locks obscured his pale face, but he was sure, Harry wasn't trying to hide a smile. Harry's other hand, the one he wasn't holding in his, was clenched into a tight fist. The Dark Lord slowed his steps and concentrated on all the things he loved- no liked about Harry. He didn't love him! Granted he liked the way Harry's eyes lit up every time, he made someone laugh. He liked how Harry moved, like he was floating on air. He liked to wrap his arms around his frail form, before they went to sleep. He liked it that Harry seemed to care for everyone and that he wasn't afraid to tell him off, if he was acting stupid (which, of course, was only seldom the case). He liked that Harry could be as fierce as he was shy. He liked to run his fingers through his soft, tousled hair. He liked to watch him, when he curled up in one of the armchairs, reading a book that looked far to heavy for someone so small. He even came to appreciate the sight of Harry in his too big pyjamas, but he did **not** love him. Love was something for fools or maybe for people like Lucius with perfect lives and perfect wives who got everything, they ever wanted. It was not something for Dark Lords. Dark Lords didn't fall in love. Sure, it was not exactly bad to have some admirers or someone like Bellatrix who worshipped his very being and would do everything, though he didn't appreciate her presence as much as before. So, he concluded, it wouldn't be bad, should Harry fall in love with him, though definitely not the other way round. And well, there was no way, in any event, that would happen.

"Thank you, Tom", Harry said softly, his fist unclenching.

"For what?", he asked confused.

"That you aren't angry with me anymore", the smaller wizard whispered shyly, looking up through dark lashes.

"How could I stay angry with someone as breathtakingly beautiful as you?", he replied charmingly, laughing softly at Harry's blush, and slung an arm possessively around the small of his back, drawing him closer to his body, "We're there by the way", he pointed at the forefront of a low building and a big, blue sign, which read "New Haven's Water Fun and Wellness Park".

The walls were painted in a very light blue with dark blue waves and a surfer on it. The glass double doors opened automatically, when someone stepped through. Harry turned saucer-eyed to Tom.

"Surprise!", he declared, smirking, and scooped down to kiss him once again, "Nott recommended it to me, apparently he and his kids had lots of fun. I thought you'd like to get out of the castle once in a while."

"Ehm, ...yeah", was the only thing, he could come up with.

It sounded hesitant and almost questioningly, but Tom would most likely put it down to surprise. That wasn't it though, he was afraid and he hated himself for it. He had no doubt Tom was trying to be nice and had even put some, if not a lot of work into planning this, but he couldn't help it. Tom walked them through the doors and up to the female cashier with dyed blonde pig-tails, sitting in one of those glass cubicles, reading a magazine.

"Welcome to 'New Haven's Water Fun and Wellness Park'", she said in a monotone, but with a dazzling smile, "How many?"

"Two adults", the Dark Lord answered, not waiting for her to tell him the price, but pushing the correct amount of Muggle money through the small flap.

"This is too much, Sir. You don't have to pay the full price for your son, he can't be older then twelve, right?", Harry wished the ground would split and swallow him right then.

He knew he was too small for his age and looked younger than he was, but twelve? And Tom's son? Not that being his whore was much better- it wasn't better at all.

"That's nothing of your concern, Miss", Voldemort sneered, his eyes flashing red momentarily, as he saw the embarrassed expression on his young husband's face.

He had wanted to enjoy this day, damnit! And this stupid woman not only made Harry feel uncomfortable, but also indirectly accused him of being a paedophile or a child molester. Harry was sixteen, for Salazar's sake. He glared at the befustled woman once more, who hastily pushed two identical plastic coins through the flap and murmured something that probably was supposed to be something like "Have a nice day". He then pulled Harry into his arms, lifting him over the metal barrier, pushed the two coins into the slit, reaccepting them again and walked through the turnstile himself, taking Harry by the hand. It felt too cold. He almost dragged him to the changing area, passing the small restaurant with all kinds of water-living creatures and even some merpeople, though they looked far from real, decorating the walls and tables. The smell of chlorine filled the air and their noses. He finally loosened his hold on Harry's hand, smiling apologetically down at him.

"That Muggle really wasn't the brightest", Harry laughed unsurely, "I couldn't find your swimming trunks, so I shrunk some of mine", he handed Harry a pair of black swimming trunks with green and white lining and a fluffy white towel, before he turned to one of the lockers and pushed the bag into it, after he had pulled his own black swimming trunks and dark blue towel out and turned his back to Harry to give him some privacy- if his plan was to work, he couldn't make a move on him yet.

Harry hurriedly stripped down to his boxers, making sure every few seconds that Tom indeed wasn't looking at him and then slipped out of them as well, exchanging them with Tom's trunks. Thankfully no-one else was in this particular changing room. The swimming trunks still were loose enough to leave something to the imagination, but tight enough to reassure him that they would stay where they were right now. He slung the towel around his shoulders, grasping the edges in front of his body so that it looked like a sort of poncho. He then started to carefully fold his clothes and made a neat pile of them on one of the benches.

"You can give them to me", Tom called almost gently from behind, reaching out to take them from his hands, "If you want I can charm your wand so that it stays at your forearm and so that the Muggles won't notice it", he offered, indicating his own forearm, where his wand was secured.

"Actually, I think I left my wand in the castle", Harry muttered, "I can't exactly use it, now can I?"

"Still, you're allowed to use it in an emergency", the Dark Lord argued and shut the door of the locker.

"I don't really trust the Ministry to recognise an emergency, ever since last year", Harry answered, referring to the Dementor attack on him and his cousin, "I won't risk to be expelled from Hogwarts. Besides, you're with me, right?"

He couldn't help but smile at Harry's answer that spoke of the trust, Harry was putting in him: "Yes, I'm with you", he once again took his husband's small hand and led the way to the showers, orientating himself on the small plastic signs with male stickmen and showers on them.

The showers were separated by small walls, which were again decorated with waves and fish and merpeople, which was decidedly starting to get on his nerves. Honestly, couldn't those Muggles come up with something more creative than that? Nonetheless he chose the shower farthest away from a fat Muggle who was lathering up, while singing some stupid Muggle song with an absolutely unmelodious and out-of-tune voice and urged Harry to take the stall opposite of his, who did so without complaint. He had to restrain himself not to stare at Harry's almost naked body, softly swaying under the water, his head thrown back so that the little droplets fell directly onto his face and then rolled down his neck and through the mess of his raven hair and then proceeded down his flat stomach and straight back. He tore his gaze away, before his eyes could follow the drop further down.

Harry hadn't been too pleased, when he had found him watching, while he showered, in fact he had screamed at him for over one hour. Something about privacy and knocking, tastefully mixed with some insults. He had retorted that he was damn well allowed to watch his own husband and that Harry should feel free to do so as well. Harry had murmured that he would take him up on that offer and the next time he had walked into the hall to have dinner, a bucket of icy water emptied itself over his head, leaving him looking like he had just had a struggle with the giant squid and lost. Then Harry had kissed his cheek like always, giving him the most pleasant and false smile, he had ever seen, and led him to his seat, not commenting on what had happened. He had tried to dry himself with a charm, but couldn't find his wand, until Harry poked him with it under the table, smirking at his surprised and disgruntled expression. So he had stayed the whole dinner, acting like nothing was wrong, and as he later had tried to take him to task about it, Harry had told him to never disturb him in the bathroom again or he would shower in front of his Death Eaters each and every day. He had been tempted to do it just to spite him, but then he had listened in on a conversation between the Malfoy boy and his Harry. Malfoy had laughed about his misfortune earlier, however Harry had stopped him with a glare and had changed the subject. Maybe it was no sign of respect at all, but he had interpreted it as one and had decided that if Harry respected him, he should do so as well.

He stepped out from under the still running water and looked back at his black-haired spouse, who still had his eyes closed, and cleared his throat. When Harry didn't react to it, he slowly moved his hand forward, till it brushed lightly against Harry's shoulder. The green eyes snapped open immediately and he flinched away from the touch, as if the hand had burnt him.

"Sorry", he apologised, just as the water stopped.

"You really like taking a shower, don't you?", Tom smiled and handed him his towel.

Harry smiled back shyly and followed him out into the swimming pool area: "It reminds me of the rain."

The first basin was based on a tropical beach. One side was flattened so that you could walk into it and the water would only slowly mount. All around and on a small island in the middle stood real palm trees and the ground's colour went from a sandy yellow into a bright turquoise. One wall looked like a cliff on which a few people were climbing up without safety ropes- if they dropped, well, then they would just drop into the water- part of it was also overflown by a waterfall, which cascaded into the pool, sending little ripples over the water. They spread their towels over two couches near the water fall, but far enough away so that they wouldn't get soaked.

Tom grinned impishly at his young husband and jumped into the water, where it was deepest- a good three meters. Harry watched stony-faced, as his husband motioned for him to join him. To his left on a large round table a birthday party was taking place. The birthday girl had just blown out the candles on the huge chocolate cake in the shape of a fish. Her face was split into a grin, revealing two tooth gaps, and a woman in her early thirties, the mother Harry guessed, was refilling the glasses of the other guests, happily smiling at her daughter the way, he knew, only a mother could. No-one had ever smiled at him like this.

Tom called him and he had to follow, he had after all promised. He moved to the ladder nearest to him and slowly descended into the water, his grip on it tightening with every step. He didn't want to let go. Some elderly ladies swam past him. Tom called for him once again, demanding he swim over, so he let go, not before taking a deep breath, and pushed away from the edge, hoping it would be enough to get to Tom. He made two awkward strokes towards Tom, thinking that once he had reached him, everything would somehow work out. But then it was again like two fleshy hands were dragging him under water, pulling him down. He gasped in panic only that instead of air his mouth was filled with chlorine water.

What had Dudley's swim instructor said?

"_If you should for some reason find yourself under water, the most important thing is not to panic",_ Well, for that it was slightly late, wasn't it, "_Focus on the water surface and use the movement we just trained to go back there", h_e wasn't sure where up was anymore.

Everywhere was water, for Merlin's sake, and his eyes hurt. On top of that **he**had never trained any strokes. His relatives had forced him to go to Dudley's lessons, partly because this way they didn't need to look after him for two hours (not that they ever did) and partly to taunt him. It had been very warm, one of the hottest summers, Harry could remember, and Aunt Petunia had dressed him in his warmest clothes and ordered him to watch his cousin. She had told the instructor something about him being terribly ill and that he was under no circumstances to be allowed to go into the water. Once his cousin and his overgrown cronies had thrown him in, despite the instructor's warning to leave him alone. His clothes had immediately soaked full with water and one of Dudley's friends had dunked him every time he had managed to break the surface. He would have drowned, if the instructor hadn't intervened and used first-aid to revive him. Since then Aunt Petunia had left him at home with a list of chores, he had to finish, before Dudley returned from the swimming pool.

He was sure his eyes had watered up, but that didn't matter, because no-one would see. His chest hurt like someone had pressed a thousand needles into it and they were now trying to come out again, but not on the same way. When had he last taken a breath, anyway? Air seemed like some myth now, in which only little children believed. His vision went black, just as two strong hands closed around his waist and instead of dragging him down, pulled him up, till his head broke through the surface. He lost consciousness then, he really didn't have the strength to deal with his uncle right now...

"Harry!", Tom cried in alarm.

He already had been a little impatient, when Harry had finally began to swim (honestly, Harry wasn't as old as those two Muggle women!) and then his husband had to annoy him even further by diving. It never occurred to him that maybe Harry wasn't faking, until the small boy went limp and sank to the ground completely. He took action immediately, and pulled him up, the water wasn't very deep thankfully. Some part of him had expected Harry to grin up at him with this brilliant smile of his and exclaim "Gotcha!", but of course the Gryffindor couldn't do him that small favour. Instead Harry looked paler than usual, meaning he was white as a ghost, his lips had turned blue as had his fingers and he didn't seem to be breathing at all. He somehow managed to lay his thin body down on the island in the middle of the basin, between a palm tree and a bin (how someone was supposed to get refuse, while in water, he didn't care to find out).

"Enervate", he pointed his wand at Harry's chest.

The delicate boy's back arched like under electroshock and he started to cough up water. The Dark Lord gently propped him up, one of his knees moving to support his back, while he brushed the black hair out of his face. Harry's hands were trembling, so he performed a warming spell and moved close so that Harry now half sat, half laid between his legs, with his head on Voldemort's chest, and one tanned arm snaking around his stomach.

"Harry?", he said more lowly this time, "Take deep breathes, can you do this for me? That's just it breath, don't hyperventilate, there's enough air, don't worry. Everything is okay, now."

Harry's small chest heaved with the effort to refill his lungs with air, which seemed to be very painful, because his blunt finger nails dug into his palms. Voldemort didn't know what possessed him to capture the small hands and let them close painfully around his much larger one, he only knew that he didn't want to cause him even more pain. For once his inner voice didn't protest at this sentence. Harry had trusted him, he should have looked out for him, Harry was his minor by more years than he cared to count, it was his responsibility to keep him safe, besides Harry had taken all the blame for everything that went wrong so far, it was time he took some as well. Finally he stopped gasping and coughing and lay shivering in his arms.

"I'm sorry, Tom, I didn't mean to...", Harry whispered, so lowly that he had to tilt his head to understand him.

"It's not your fault, Harry, I should have realised that you can't swim", he interrupted soothingly, "Why didn't you tell me, Harry?"

"I didn't want you to be angry or disappointed. You seemed so happy and I was so relieved that you didn't demand... you know, and I promised I would obey you. I'm sorry", he said, sounding frightened.

"Do you really think, it would have made me happy, if you drowned?", Tom asked incredulously, "I don't want you to be scared of me, Harry. And if you're afraid of something, you shouldn't have to do it, okay? Please, tell me something like this beforehand the next time."

"Aren't you angry with me?", Harry asked confused, everyone was always angry with him, when he didn't tell them the truth.

"No, lovely", it was out of his mouth, before he even realised that he was going to say it, "Though, I'm rather nervous about what Lucius, Severus and the Lestranges will do to me, if they find out, you nearly drowned while under my care."

Harry chuckled, which quickly turned into violent coughs, wracking his waif-like form. The older man pressed him closer to his own body, hoping it would give him some support and warmth- despite the warming spell, Harry's body was still cold and he shivered.

"How about we go to the steam baths so that you can warm up, hm?", he suggested, once the coughing fit was over.

"I...", Harry stopped insecurely, but a kiss to his forehead encouraged him, "I don't want to go back into the water..."

Why hadn't he thought of this earlier? They were still on the small island in the middle and though he could easily stand here, Harry was much smaller than him.

"Shh, it's okay. Thank you that you told me. Would it be alright, if I carried you? I promise I won't drop you", he smiled reassuringly, returning the searching green gaze of his husband unblinkingly.

Finally Harry nodded, allowing him to glide into the water and intertwined his hands behind his neck, his slender legs wrapping around his waist. Tom in turn moved his left hand to Harry's back and the other one under his thighs to support him and slowly let him slide into the water as well. Harry buried his head in the crook of his neck, whimpering quietly but held still, afraid Tom would loose his balance and drop him otherwise. The Dark Lord walked as fast and as evenly as possible out of the basin, grateful that he didn't have to climb any ladders to get out of it. He gracefully dodged a very cantilevered palm tree and passed the mother, who was cleaning up the mess, the children had left, and sent him and Harry a smile, and sat Harry down on his own towel and started to carefully dry him with the white one. Had that been a purr? Going from the blush that spread over the boy's pale face, yes. _Cute_, he thought, before he began towelling his silky black hair. Harry leaned back against his chest, almost falling asleep.

"Do you want to go to the steam bath or would you rather I take you home, Harry?", he asked amused but also a little bit worried, "You seem tired."

"I've never been to a steam bath before", Harry muttered, "I don't know what it's like..."

"Well, then we'll try it out and decide from there, okay?", Harry smiled up at him and slowly stood up supporting himself on his shoulder, when everything went black for a moment.

Voldemort noted this with some concern and slipped one arm around Harry's waist to help him.

As it turned out there were three steam baths: one with eucalyptus, one with lavender and one with no specific smell. Since the lavender one was overflowing with chattering older ladies and the neutral one had a weird beige colouring, which reminded Harry of vomit, they choose the eucalyptus one. The whole room was tiled green as was the bench, they sat on, though you couldn't make out much more, because of the steam that evaporated from the well in a corner of the room.

This was where he had wanted to have Harry. His perfect plan. Get him to relax, get him somewhere, where you won't be disturbed, get him. For a moment he considered loosening his wand and locking the door so that no Muggle would be able to enter, but then, when he looked over at his husband, who was huddled in a corner with his knees pulled to his chest, a realisation struck him. Since their wedding, maybe even before that, he had denied to himself and everyone around him to feel anything for Harry. He had come up with so many excuses to justify his uncharacteristic behaviour around the petite Gryffindor that you probably could fill a book with them. But the truth was that he did feel a lot for his Harry. Appreciation. Possessiveness. Protectiveness. Desire. Admiration. Fondness. And even love. There in that steamy bath he admitted to himself that he had fallen for the raven-haired beauty. Hard. So he wouldn't force Harry into having sex with him. At least not now. He knew there was no way around the weekly sexual intercourse, because not only would Harry become suspicious, but he himself would most likely go mad with desire and assault him sooner or later. And that definitely wouldn't bode well with his husband. But he vowed to find a way to make Harry love him as well and he would start right now.

"Tom?", the small voice barred him from coming up with a plan to accomplish this goal, "I... don't feel... too good", there were huge gaps between the words, as if Harry could hardly breath and the last word was nothing more than a not completely inaudibly exhalation.

He was able to catch Harry's hot and shivering body, before he hit the hard floor.

"Is something wrong with your son?", the only other Muggle had ventured over and was now trying to peer into Harry's pale face- why did everyone think Harry was his son? Couldn't they count? He looked about twenty-five and Harry maybe like thirteen, so he had reproduced at the age of twelve?- "You know, children under fourteen are not supposed to be in here for longer than five minutes, that's not good for their metabolism..."

To him it sounded like that Muggle had no idea what metabolism meant and had only said it to sound more sophisticated or maybe because it had been the word of the day. He sneered at him, while he scooped Harry up. He took great albeit short pleasure in closing the door in front of the Muggle man's ugly nose and in warding it with a handy little spell, Harry wouldn't have approved of. He snatched their two towels from the hook next to the clouded door, and carried him to the changing rooms, mentally cursing all the Muggles, staring at them that stopped him from using magic. If not for them he would have apparated Harry straight home, better yet to St. Mungo's, because sixteen year old wizards were not supposed to faint because of a silly steam bath. Even he knew that!

Finally he had reached and locked one of the changing rooms, after he had literally thrown a elderly Muggle out of it, who now passed his rapidly shortening remaining life span by banging against the door. With a wipe of his wand he was dressed again and with another charm his hair was only slightly damp. Harry was still unconscious and trembling, but he was reluctant to use magic on him. He was no healer by no means, but he guessed that Harry had a high fever and that was as far as his examination went. It certainly didn't sound sensibly to use a spell without knowing, if it would interfere with Harry's magic or cause greater harm than good. So he carefully began to towel him dry. For once Harry's baggy clothes were advantageous, when he slipped the tee-shirt over his husband's head. Harry groaned.

"Harry?", he asked anxiously, "How do you feel?"

Harry's emerald eyes blinked open but didn't really focus on him: "Fine", his eyes finally found Tom's and he tried to look convincing, but at the same time couldn't prevent a wince from escaping.

"You'll have to forgive me, when I can't believe that, Harry", Tom reprimanded, "I'll bring you to St. Mungo's."

"No, Tom, please don't", Harry grasped his wand hand, "I don't want to go there. I don't like doctors- healers, whatever. Please don't make me, it's only four days until school starts again and I'll go see Madam Pomfrey immediately if you want me to, just please, don't force me to go to a healer, I never even saw before, please?"

Harry, Tom concluded, was very persuasive when he looked at you with those impossible wide, innocent green eyes.

"Okay, but I'll bring you home, right now, where you'll go to bed and sleep. Can you get dressed or should I help you, Harry?", he couldn't keep the hopefulness completely out of his voice.

Unfortunately his comment seemed to alert Harry to his current state of more or less undress and he blushed profusely before he tried to cover himself with the two towels and his jeans: "I think, I'll be fine. Could you maybe turn around? Please?"

He sighed deeply, so much for Harry trusting him. He couldn't even stand changing in front of his eyes, which, in his opinion, was rather contradictorily, because, when they had sex, he had of course seen him naked. Thinking about sex, was not a good move, he realised, when his blood immediately shot to his lower regions and left a rather noticeable bulge in his pants. _Think about something else._ Severus and Bellatrix, that had always worked. Bellatrix was far from attractive since her time in Azkaban and Severus, well he guessed Severus just wasn't born to ever have sex. Although, now that he washed his hair regularly and even smiled from time to time (only at Harry and only if he thought himself unobserved) he wasn't that bad anymore, definitely no beauty like his Harry but he guessed, that if you liked the dark brooding type, the Potion's Master was not to be scoffed at. Okay, so that mental image backfired, all because Harry had to help everyone! Dumbledore then, alone the thought of the old fool having sex was nauseating. He doubted the old coot would find someone- he sincerely hoped so.

There was a painful gasp behind and he cautiously peeked over his shoulder to check, if Harry was alright. He was not. He sat on the floor, leaned against the bench and panted heavily, his trousers still in his hand, though he had somehow managed to change into his boxer shorts. He had started trembling again and held his stomach, as if he had cramps a light sheen of perspiration on his forehead.

"Harry, come on, if you don't want to go to St. Mungo's, you can't do this to me. I have no idea how to handle such situations, little one, you have to help me a little, okay?", he lightly patted his cheeks, till Harry opened his eyes again, "That's it. Now I'll help you into your trousers and then we'll leave this stupid changing room, alright?"

"Hm, Tom, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause you trouble...", Harry whispered, while he let the taller man assist him in getting into his trousers.

"You're worth all the trouble, Harry", he murmured back- first step: work on Harry's self-confidence, "Now come on, featherweight, I'll carry you."

Harry thumped his arm and gave him a crooked smile, before he laid his pale arms around his neck and allowed Tom to arrange his legs around his waist.

When they finally reached the spot near the edge of the forest, Harry was fast asleep and Tom had had to strengthen his hold on him, because Harry had been slowly sliding down his body (which had caused the blood to return into his nether regions).

He apparated back to his castle and carried his sleeping husband into their rooms, where he proceeded to tuck him into bed, after he had asked one of the house-elves for a hot-water bottle and had changed Harry into his pyjamas and since his feet felt too cold into thick socks.

Then he moved his favourite armchair into the bedroom so that he could work on his lesson plans and watch Harry at the same time. But after a while he had to realise that Harry was much more often the focus of his attention than the sixth years curriculum, he should be working on, and he decided that the chance to look at Harry was a one-off, while the lesson plans wouldn't run away, therefor he should take it. He changed into his pyjama bottoms and slipped into bed next to Harry, who had once again curled up into a little ball around his teddy bear.

That night, unbeknownst to them, they changed roles and Voldemort stayed up all night, watching Harry, and Harry for whatever reason slept peacefully. Maybe it was. because he didn't have access to Tom's memory. while he was still awake and maybe he had relived enough memories of Uncle Vernon the night before to be allowed a dreamless night. Well, not completely dreamless: Tom had been right with his assumption that Harry had a fever and so he dreamed some mazy stuff about speaking palm trees, who told him he was worth all the trouble, and about Severus with bleached blonde pig tails, but all in all it was a vast improvement.

* * *

**(1) I mean no offence to Norwegians or Dutch people, I just had to think of a language with weird names and that's what I came up with. I actually have no idea if these languages have weird or even long names, but I associate it with them.

* * *

**

**Okay, at the moment it looks like this:**

**1. Tom/Harry (15)**

**2. Draco/Harry-slavefic (6)**

**3. Sirius/Harry (6)**

**4. Sirius/Harry-timetravel (8)**

**5. Draco/Harry-AU (11)**

**6. Lucius/Harry (18)**

**So that means Lucius is in the lead (it's proof of how sick I am that I thought Tom was in the lead, sorry). Anyway you can still vote for yur favourite. And I decided to read the story with the summary that sounds similiar to the Tom/Harry story I wanted to write and if it's to similiar I won't write it. Just thought I'd tell you.**

**Now, be nice and send sick little me a review...**


	23. Attack

**Disclaimer: All these wonderful characters belong to J.K.Rowling, except my two werewolves, but they can't really compare to the others (sorry, guys) author is attacked by two very angry werewolves**

**Author's Note: I really hate the heading of this chapter, I really do, but I'd hate it even more if this chapter had no heading. Well, anyway, read, enjoy, review!

* * *

**

**23. ATTACK**

Since he really was asleep, he really woke up, when Voldemort, after taking a shower and a pepper-up potion, kissed his forehead the next morning and murmured: "Good morning, precious."

Harry stared at him wide-eyed for a second, before he squeaked rather undignified and scrambled back to bring some distance between their faces.

"Sorry", he blushed, when he realised what he had been doing, "You startled me. Good morning, Tom."

Voldemort chuckled lightly in order to paper over his own insecurity that Harry had caught him on his morning ritual, but also because Harry looked once again so cute: "Do you feel better, Harry?"

"Yes, I'm fine", Harry assured him and tried to get up, however he had to sit back down as a wave of nausea washed over him.

"Back into bed with you", Tom ordered sternly, who had also seen that Harry's hands were trembling again, "You're obviously sick, so you'll stay in bed. I'll order one of the house-elves to bring you some soup."

"But, Tom", Harry whined, pleadingly protesting, as he started to tuck him in again, "I don't want to stay here all day. It's boring! And Sirius, Remus, Damian and Tanea are coming today, you said they could come, don't take that back now."

"I'm confident that your friends can occupy themselves, until you actually feel better", he argued back, "And you should sleep anyway, so you won't be bored, either."

"Please, Tom", pleaded Harry, "You said I should tell you, if I don't want to do something and I don't want to lay here all day. Please, let me go down to have breakfast, please? I'm not about to die from having breakfast!"

"Okay, I'll make a proposal: I'll carry you down for breakfast and you can say hello to your guests and if, and only if, you have not another fit and you eat something, you can spent time with them. Agreed?", he suggested in a voice that made clear that there would be no negotiations.

"Okay", Harry nodded and threw back the blanket.

However, when he made to stand up, Tom gave him to understand that he should stay seated and disappeared into the bathroom. Upon return he held his own bathrobe in hands, since Harry had none, and handed it to Harry, who slipped it over his pyjama. Tom then proceeded to carefully wrap him in his Gryffindor blanket and finally lifted him into his arms.

"Can I ask you something?", the green-eyed wizard inquired timidly, "Why are you doing all this? Why are you being so nice?"

"Am I not allowed to be nice?", he raised an eyebrow mockingly, shifting his weight onto his left leg in order to open the door.

"Of course, you are, and I really like this part of you, but I wonder if you have an ulterior motive", Harry murmured, his head in the crook of his neck.

"Would you believe me, if I told you that I have none?", Tom gave back, having a hard time to ignore the small puffs of breath on his skin.

"Probably not", Harry admitted and kept quiet for the rest of the way.

Naturally they received several odd looks and a smirk from Lucius, as they entered the breakfast hall, which Tom quieted with a glare of his own, while he sat down in his chair, Harry in his lap.

"Good morning, Mylord", greeted Lucius, "Am I right to assume that you grow attached to young Mr. Potter over night and can't seem to get separated?"

"Funny, Lucius, really", the Dark Lord retorted sarcastically, "Harry, you promised to eat something."

Harry gave no indication that he had heard him, which was, as Tom found out, when he looked into Harry's face, due to him having fallen asleep again.

"Why didn't you let him sleep, when he was so tired?", Rudolphus asked a bit more aggressive than was his habit, because he was so worried what the Dark Lord might have done to his friend.

"Because he protested and I would advise you to stop that hostility at once, which is quite uncalled for, by the way, because Harry's tiredness is not my fault", Tom snapped back, waking Harry with his harsh tone.

He yawned cutely, rubbed his eyes and stretched like a cat: "Morning, everyone. Rudolphus, could you pass me my plate? And you really should stop glaring, doesn't suit you."

"Are you alright, Harry?", Rabastan asked worriedly, "You look a bit pale..."

"Of course, I am", Harry scoffed, reaching for the plate and starting to nibble on a honey roll, "Tom's just overreacting."  
"I'm not overreacting, you almost fainted this morning", Voldemort argued, reaching for his usual cheese sandwich, "You'll take a pepper-up potion after breakfast."

"Almost being the key word and I certainly won't drink one of those awful potions, I hate having smoke coming from my ears, thank you very much. Besides I'm absolutely fine now", Harry returned, before he shied away from Tom's cheese sandwich, looking about ready to throw up, "If you don't put that away, I'm going to be sick. It's stinks awfully, how can you eat something like this?"

"I eat cheese sandwich every morning, you never complained before", he said, but laid the sandwich back on his plate, "What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing is wrong as long as you don't eat that stuff", Harry answered indignantly, pushing the plate further away for good measure, "Eat an apple instead, that's supposed to be healthy."

"I don't want to eat an apple, Harry", Tom snapped annoyed, "I want to eat my cheese sandwich."

"I doubt that a bit of variety will do you harm, Tom", Harry pacified him, "Here, you can have my cream cheese roll, that's cheese, too, but doesn't smell so nasty."

"For all I care!"

"Thank you, Tom", the green-eyed boy kissed his cheek playfully, "Dobby?", the small creature appeared immediately, "Good morning, Dobby, could you take that plate with cheese sandwiches away? Thank you."

"Of course, Master Harry", Dobby's head nodded vigorously, as he let the plate disappear, "May Dobby speak with Master Harry about Winky?"

"Of course, is something wrong with her, is she sick, does she need anything?", Harry asked concerned.

"She has begun drinking again, Master Harry. Dobby is sorry. He tried to prevent her from doing it, but Winky wouldn't listen to poor Dobby", he started to pull his long ears, "Bad Dobby!"

"Stop it, Dobby!", Harry ordered sternly and grabbed his fingers, "Now, would you be so kind to send Winky up or is she already to drunk? Should I better go to her?"

"No, Master Harry, needn't come to the kitchens, Dobby will send Winky here."

With that he plopped away and moments later a lightly swaying Winky appeared instead, glaring blearily at her surroundings a half empty butterbeer bottle still in her hands.

"Oh, Winky, what is it, why are you drinking again?", Harry slid out of his husband's lap and knelt down next to the elf, the blanket pooling around his slight form.

"Bad wizards... Winky is serving bad wizards", the elf whimpered and hiccoughed almost at the same time, "Master Crouch would be so ashamed. Winky is an elf in disgrace! Poor Master, poor Master what is he doing without his Winky? What a shame Winky is to her family! Everywhere bad wizards! Master Crouch was right to free Winky, she deserves to be punished, bad Winky. Bad wizards. Evil Wizards..."

"Winky, calm down, please", Harry tried to comfort her, "They aren't completely bad, Winky", a loud wail of "Bad wizards" drowned him out, "Okay, maybe they're bad, but you are not in their service, are you, Winky? You and Dobby are in my service and didn't you want this?"

"Harry Potter is bad, too!", the female elf screamed furiously and made Harry flinch away slightly, "Master Crouch said so. Harry Potter talked to Ludo Bagman, Ludo Bagman is a bad wizard! What a disgrace to the family, his parents were good wizards! They would be ashamed of Harry Potter!"

"Then why did you want to work for me, Winky?", Harry asked, barely concealing the hurt and anger he felt.

"Winky didn't want to work here, Dobby said we should take care of the bestest wizard, so Winky thought they were going back to Master Crouch", squeaked Winky, "Dobby lied! Winky doesn't want to stay here... Bad wizards..."

"You don't have to, Winky", Harry agreed at once, "You are free to go, whenever you please."

"Winky has to stay. A house-elf without employment is an even bigger disgrace, oh poor Winky!"

"Okay, I'll suggest something: I'll find you a new employment with someone who absolutely admired Bartemius Crouch Senior and in exchange you'll stop drinking. You don't have to work, if it displeases you so much, but you won't constrain the other house-elves, deal?", Harry sighed, pulling the blanket tighter around himself.

"Who is this new Master?", Winky asked suspiciously but at least again in normal volume.

"Percy Weasley, but you most likely know him as Weatherby", Harry informed her and her small face lit up, "He was the assistant of your Master."

"Winky knows him, he's a good wizard", declared the elf, "Winky wants to be his house-elf. She's going down to the kitchens again to help the other house-elves."

"Thank Merlin for small favours", Harry sighed and rested his head on his hands for a moment so that it looked like a very deep bow.

"Aren't you angry with that house-elf? It insulted you after all and you hexed me for far less", Draco asked nosily in a voice that clearly stated how unfair he had been treated his whole life.

"It's hardly Winky's fault that she says what Mr. Crouch drummed into her and probably her mother and her grandmother for years", countered Harry, "And you were an obnoxious little brat."

"So I'm no 'obnoxious little brat' anymore?", Draco asked innocently.

"It's getting better- with my good influence", the Gryffindor answered sweetly, "I'm positive that in a few years you'll turn the corner."

"What corner?", Draco asked confused and Harry rolled his eyes: "Honestly, it's really difficult to have a decent conversation with you purebloods, when half of the time you don't understand me and the other half I have no idea what you're talking about. Why don't you take Muggle Studies?"

"Could you maybe stand up from the floor for your little discussion, Harry? You'll catch a cold and you haven't really eaten anything, yet", Tom intervened, satisfied, when Harry snuggled into him again.

"You know, if that Dark Lord thing hadn't worked out, you could always have become a nurse", Harry murmured sleepily, "Would anyone have a quill and a piece of paper for me?"

While Draco listed all the reasons why he couldn't be bothered to take that course (his main argument was that it was far beneath him, which of course he didn't word so openly), Harry pinned a short letter to the schismatic Weasley, asking him to get into contact with him as soon as possible.

Just as Tom was trying to convince Harry, to eat some more (depending on who you asked, he was doing so successfully), when the double doors burst open and one over-enthusiastic Sirius Black walked (more like ran) through, followed by three werewolves, one rolling his eyes at his boy-friend's antics, one looking around warily and one young one partly hiding behind the second werewolf's back and partly behind an edition of 'Hogwarts- A History'. If you hadn't figured it out Remus, Damian and Tanea had arrived alongside with the Black heir, who had in the meantime transformed into his Animagus-form and started to tussle with Harry also in his Animagus-form. They moved so fast that their black fur blended into each other and it looked quite vicious, but for the trained eye it was clear that both the dog and the panther took great care not to hurt the other party.

"Would you two for once act like **wizards**?", the oldest werewolf asked annoyed, taking Rudolphus' seat, who had already finished his breakfast, "Good morning, by the way."

"Cub, I think we better do what he said", Sirius transformed back, the small panther still hanging on his back, licking his ear and neck teasingly, "It's that time of the month again..."

"... and it's full moon, too", Harry added; he, too, again in human form, "Tanea, Damian, it's great to see you, why don't you take a seat?", he indicated Avery's and Nott's empty seats.

The black haired man slid into the seat between Voldemort and Remus, Harry now straddling his legs: "Good morning, Remi, are you okay?"

"Of course, Harry, I actually feel better than normally", Remus reassured him, accepted the kiss to his cheek and forwent to return the question, since Harry would only change the subject and dodge the issue, anyway.

"Siri, you look great, but since when do you wear a suit under your robes?", the green-eyed boy inquired adjusting the blue and silver striped tie.

"I had a job interview with the Daily Prophet", Sirius informed him importantly, but with a huge grin splitting his handsome face, "And now I'm a reporter again! I'll start Monday!"

"I'm so proud of you", Harry embraced his godfather and kissed his nose lightly, "Have you found a house, yet?"

"Yeah", if possible, Sirius' grin grew even wider, "You remember that we wanted one near the Scottish border, don't you? When Minerva heard about it, she asked a relative of hers, if she knew something suitable. The house belongs to an old lady who decided to live with her son in her old days. It's rather secluded, but that's what we wanted anyway, and it has a huge garden and a part of a forest with it. And it's not too expensive, but not cheap enough that you'd think there's a hitch or that we are exploiting the old lady. Which reminds me you have to give me access to my vault, if you don't mind", he rummaged through his robes for a while, before he extended a stack of papers from his pocket.

"You can't just sign that!", Voldemort exclaimed alarmedly, as Harry positioned the quill over the line, without reading anything more than the "Signature of vault-owner" under it.

"Why not? It's Sirius' money", Harry asked confusedly.

"You haven't even read it! It could be your money just as well. And why does Black need your permission at all?", Tom demanded, sending the godfather of his husband a dark look.

"Because I was declared dead for over a month and therefor my will became effective and Harry got everything I owed", Sirius shot right back, rubbing circles on Harry's back, who hid his face in Sirius' neck, "I didn't bother to have it revoked."

"Besides, you insisted that you are allowed to pay for all my expenses, I don't exactly need the money", Harry added, "I have more than enough in any case."

"You can never have too much money", Lucius Malfoy stated wisely, finishing his coffee.

"I have more money than you, Lucius", Harry smirked, which made the blond gape for a split second, before he composed himself again and looked like this was nothing new to him, "Indeed? Well, then you should find some better use for it than letting it rot in Gringotts."

"I already have, though for some odd reason I just get more of it everyday, it's quite annoying actually, gradually I'm running out of ideas", Harry said pensively and somehow it didn't sound arrogant or sarcastic at all.

"What are you doing with your money, if I may ask", inquired the blond.

"I support hospitals, aid organisations for nearly everything in both the Muggle and the Wizarding world, schools, orphanages, you know stuff like that. But everyday some witch or wizard decides that they should do something for the poor, parentless Potter boy and instead of sending a card or doing something less humiliating, they give me some of their money, as if...", Harry stopped suddenly in mid-ranting, wiped away an angry tear that had formed in his eye and blushed a little, "Sorry", he mumbled, while he signed the form and leaned back against his godfather, "Are you excited about going to Hogwarts, Tanea?"

The blond-haired girl nodded shyly: "Yes, I've read so much about it already and my parents told me about their school time there. I just hope that the other students will like me..."

"You shouldn't worry about this, after all school is only half as interesting, if you don't have a nemesis, right, Harry?", Draco asked slyly, "I wonder what I should do this year, though I guess Weasel will do for a while..."

"I'm sure, you'll find someone suitable", Harry agreed, yawning again, "Tom, we need two rooms for tonight, do you think we could use the training room down in the cellar and separate it into two?"

"Why do you need two rooms, Harry?", returned Tom, "And yes, you can have that room, I'll help you ward it later."

"Because we don't know, if the potion, Lupin ingested, will be effective", Severus explained, "I'll need a blood sample of you and your werewolf friend over there", he motioned to Damian, "So if you would?"

"Not at the breakfast table, Severus", Harry ordered sternly, "Go outside and I'd really appreciate it, if neither of them would suffer from anaemia afterwards."

"I'll try to keep my vampiric tendencies in check", the Potion's Master snarled and swept from the hall, followed by the two male werewolves.

"Mylord, if you don't need me, my son and I will go back to the manor for today to meet with Narcissa", Lucius spoke up and Voldemort nodded generously.

"Will you say hello for me?", Harry asked pleadingly.

"Of course", Draco assured him and followed his father, after he had given Harry a hug.

The green-eyed boy looked to be deep in thought and was startled, when Remus, Severus and Damian returned again: "Tom, I ate everything on my plate and I'm fine now, may I stay down here, please?"

"You gave half of it away, Harry", the Dark Lord scolded, but with no real vigour behind it, "But you may stay in one of the studies, since I don't want your pack of Gryffindors and werewolves trampling through our rooms, though I want you to take a nap, you look dead on your feet, understood?"

"Sir, yes, sir", Harry saluted him, which the Dark Lord only answered with a scowl, as he left Harry and his guests alone, however once out of sight his lips curved into a small smile.

Harry led everyone into his favourite study. It was situated near the entrance hall and was one of the smaller ones. One side had two huge bay windows which overlooked the garden and one smaller one in the middle that curiously enough gave view on the sea which the castle bordered on the west side. The opposite wall was hidden by one big bookshelf that held a sortiment of Transfiguration, Charms and Herbology books and since Harry had found this room also his school books from the first five years, Simon's notes and a few additional books, he had borrowed from the main library. Black plush armchairs and loveseats were scattered around the room and the carpet was of the same soft material so that you could easily sit on it. There were no paintings in this study- one of the reasons Harry had chosen to sit in it so often was that he truly could be undisturbed in there.

Tanea, albeit fascinated by the load of books, was too exhausted to do anything more than snuggle into the armchair nearest to the bookshelf and dream about all the books in it. Damian fell asleep soon after and Remus and Harry dozed off as well, using Sirius as a pillow, leaving him quite bored. He would never admit to it, but he was quite relieved, when there was a knock on the door about an hour and a half later and Voldemort entered the room, seemingly unfazed that he walked into something a kin to a dormitory.

But of course the Animagus didn't know that Voldemort had been standing in front of the door, contemplating if he should knock or not, for over five minutes and that only after he had finally located his husband in there after a thorough searching of the library, Severus' rooms, the training room and two other studies. Of course, now that he was standing here it was obvious that Harry would come here. It was his refuge.

That was the reason he knocked, his new aim to make Harry like him still fresh in his mind, though his pride and his status as the Dark Lord didn't allow him to wait for an answer, before entering, still his good intentions were clear, or so he hoped. He hadn't expected that everyone save Black was asleep, but he masked his surprise well enough and sat in the armchair next to the pile of human bodies that consisted of his husband, his godfather, and his godfather's personal werewolf. Why they had chosen to lay on the floor rather than sit in on of the chairs, was anyone's guess, it certainly didn't look very comfortable. Black sat, as mentioned before, on the floor crossed-legged, leaning against the window sill. Almost completely in his lap slept his Harry, curled up as was his habit. The werewolf's head rested on Black's lower leg and near Harry's belly, who had one hand tangled in his sandy brown hair.

"Black", he acknowledged, "So you have worn them out already."

"It wasn't too difficult, though I have the sneaking suspicion that Harry only wanted to avoid questions", Sirius replied evenly without the malice, Tom had come to expect, "You wouldn't happen to know, why Harry is so tired, would you?"

"No, as a matter of fact, I don't", Voldemort hadn't missed the small growl which had accompanied the question, "He slept all night, but he had a fever and I couldn't convince him to consult a healer about it. Feel free to try!"

Sirius chuckled lightly: "I doubt that Harry will ever go to a healer voluntarily."

"Damn right", Harry muttered, blinking one eye open, "And now stop talking about me! Do something useful instead!"

"I'll show you the training room and then we can start warding it", Tom offered and stood up, "I don't fancy the idea of three werewolves strolling through the castle."

"I'm not sure I should leave them...", the older Animagus started, but Harry interrupted him, while moving from his lap: "I'll look after them, don't worry."

"And I look after Harry", Remus added, pulling the small teen into his strong arms, "We'll be fine. Go."

Tom didn't know, if those three had an absolute democratic relationship or if Black was persuaded by their arguments, but he knew that he didn't like the thought that Harry laid in the arms of another man. He swiftly left the room and snapped the door shut, once the Black heir had followed, pulling out his wand to ward the door.

"Can't trust your Death Eaters?", Black asked mockingly, casually adjusting his robes.

"I can't trust your cousin, Black", he retorted, finally satisfied with his spell work, "And since your godson has sent her to the dungeons or somewhere as equally unpleasant, I doubt her feelings have changed much."

"Ah, yes, I remember Harry telling Remus and me about that incident", he couldn't help but sneer at that werewolf's name, which unfortunately Black had to notice.

"Are you jealous, Voldemort?", he could distinctly feel that the other man was suppressing laughter, "Of Remus?"

"Aren't you?", he sneered back, "Your wolf is obviously quite happy with Harry in his arms instead of you, Black. The way you three act, it's like you were a fucking threesome!"

"Well, we're not", Black had the audacity to smile at him- no-one smiled at him! Well Lucius smirked at him, which wasn't much better, and awfully much as of late, too, but that wasn't the point, "Harry is my godson and I love him to bits as does Remus, but not in any romantic way. He's our cub. I'm Remus mate, he will always love me. There's nothing to be jealous about."

_And Harry will most likely never love you,_ his inner voice added viciously, _so, since you never had him you can't lose him either, don't be afraid. _He rubbed his temple in an attempt to will away his headache.

"I guess the chances aren't very high that you'll grant me an interview, are they?", Black rattled on, while they made their way to the cellar.

"You mean like we make an appointment, we sit down in some inconspicuous café and then you start pestering me with question, just to write some falsified article about me and my intentions?", he asked back, "Indeed, you're right, the chances are slim to non-existent. However you may ask me questions now while we work and if you start getting on my nerves and you fail to see the subtle warning signs, I'll find a way around the contract and hex you for my entertainment", of course, he had no intention to go through with that threat, because Harry would give him hell for doing so, but he figured it would work nonetheless.

"Sounds about right", Sirius agreed, after having thought it over, "Though I imagine Harry wouldn't be to pleased, if you hexed me."

_Damn, _there went his theory: "That may be true, but I doubt that I care about what pleases Harry", he gave back.

"You will forgive me, when I disagree", Sirius grinned again, "How many supporters do you have?"

"I will hardly give you such information", Voldemort decidedly wasn't in a good mood.

"There are ten Death Eaters in the inner circle, correct?", Sirius continued, as if he had got an answer, "That isn't very much, if you consider that you wanted to wage war on the whole Wizarding World."

"It's not the quantity of my followers which will make me win, Black", he snarled back, "If they all were like Wormtail, I most likely would keep him company right now", he had hoped to get a rise out of Harry's godfather, but was sorely disappointed.

"So you did hand him over to the Ministry?"

"Of course I did!"

"Just confirming the facts. If you indeed should succeed in taking over the Wizarding World what would you change? What irks you the most about the current situation?"

Tom sighed: "I don't like the way Dumbledore has his wand in every pie. I don't like it that Muggleborns hear at eleven for the first time that they have magical abilities, that they have to adjust to the Wizarding World, to their newly discovered abilities and to their new school all at once and that Dumbledore once again is the first person, they look up to. I don't like it that it is completely legal to sentence someone for life or even to death without trial. I don't like it that non-humans are looked down upon, even though their abilities could help us greatly. I don't like it that Slytherins are considered dark as soon as the hat has shouted out their house. I don't like it that money and influence set the course of politics, although I won't deny that it helps me quite a lot. I don't like it that the Wizarding world relies on a child to save them rather than fighting for themselves. I don't like it that we only have one newspaper that gives us some fudged information, only if the Ministry and Dumbledore allow it. Is that enough for you or would you want some more, Black?"

"Oh, I think the readers won't want to read more than half a page about your intentions", Sirius replied, "Surprisingly enough what you said sounded fairly reasonable, so I wonder how you got pureblood elitists like Malfoy or animal-haters like Macnair or misantrophes like Snape on your side."

"Do you expect me to psycho-analyse the behaviour of my Death Eaters?", he snapped back, "Most of them were born into dark families, you should know what that is like, Black, and others just decided that my motives are better than the Light side's in any case, if you want to find out the details, feel free to get on their nerves", he almost gave a sigh of relief, when they reached the training room; maybe the work would prevent Black to ask anymore questions; why had he agreed to this again? Oh, right, Harry adored his godfather, Harry wouldn't even consider liking him, if Black wasn't on his side.

He hadn't really been down here before, only once, when he had fetched Harry for one of their walks, but it didn't look too interesting, although Harry had been thrilled by it. But Harry was thrilled by the weirdest things anyway, so that didn't say much. He surveyed the room stopping short as he noticed the two tall figures of the Lestrange brothers, who were trying out some new moves.

"Mylord", Rudolphus had finally noticed him and inclined his head slightly, "Is there anything you need us for?"

"Harry and his werewolf friends decided that this was the best place to spend the night in, so we are going to ward it now", he informed them coldly, "You will have to find an other place to train", he still hadn't forgiven them for spending so much time with Harry- **his** Harry!

"Of course, Mylord", Rabastan nodded, "Should we help with the warding?"

Voldemort nodded in return; maybe their presence would keep Black preoccupied: "Black, what needs to be done?"

"We have to separate it into two obviously", Sirius explained, pulling out his wand, "Damian and Tanea should be completely save, so we don't need to ward their room, but I would recommend some simple locking spells in case they should feel adventurous. Remus' room needs stronger spells as well as being scentless. The wall in the middle should be about two and a half meters high, so that Remus won't be able to cross it, but Harry will, because he will surely want to look after all of them and if Remus' potion works we'll have to test it in the presence of a human, too..."

"What!", Tom was really beginning to question the Gryffindor's ability to form coherent thoughts- everyone knew that it was not a good idea to antagonise a Dark Lord, but maybe doing so could be justified, when you were the godfather of said Dark Lord's husband; on the other hand walking around a werewolf in human form, when you weren't sure that the potion was working correctly, was bloody insane, "Are you telling me that you plan to transform back, with Lupin in the same room?"

"Essentially yes, but only one of us will transform back, Harry, since I could restrain Remus more easily if need be, and only if Remus doesn't react negatively to smelling him from the other room", for the first time Sirius scowled at the Dark Lord, "Don't ever think, I would let anyone harm Harry!"

They scowled at each other for a while, before on a silent agreement they started to change the room, according to Sirius' instructions. Finally they all were satisfied (Tom had insisted on a lot more Warding Spells and spells that would alert the castle should something out of the ordinary happen- well, more out of the ordinary than three werewolves spending the night there.

"Rudolphus, Rabastan, could you inform me how Harry is progressing in his training?", Tom had meant to ask them that for quite a while, but had never got around to it.

The two brothers shared a look- it was bloody infuriating, when they did this, couldn't they talk like normal people? Harry thought it was cute- before the older brother replied: "We covered all the basic punches and kicks. Harry has taken quite nicely to them. He managed to beat Rabastan in our last duel. We considered training him in a fight against an armed wizard, but we're not sure, if Harry's ready for that, though he certainly has potential. But sometimes he seems to forget everything...", the two brothers exchanged a scowl, but decided against elaborating, even when the Dark Lord raised one eyebrow expectantly.

It hadn't happened often, maybe once or twice and each time Harry had assured them afterwards that it was nothing, finding a new excuse every time. But it was strange nonetheless. Once he had run from the room, after Rudolphus had demonstrated a stranglehold and they were pretty sure he had had tears running down his cheeks. They hadn't been able to find him for the rest of the day. Another time they had pressed him against a wall and Harry went completely catatonic not reacting to anything they did, not even as Rabastan poured icy water over his head. Both times Harry had vehemently denied that anything was wrong and then proceeded to hide himself and to avoid them for several days.

"Do you think it would be commendable to continue the training?", Tom demanded to know, after it had become clear that they wouldn't answer his unasked question and quite frankly, he had other problems like for example trying to find out how he could win Harry over and what exactly had happened yesterday and why Harry refused to see a healer and why he fainted and forbid him to eat cheese sandwiches all of a sudden.

"We would like to do so, Mylord", replied Rabastan, "Harry certainly has a talent for martial arts."

"You should attack him, when he isn't expecting it, if you really want to prepare him for a fight", Sirius voiced his opinion, earning him surprised stares from the other men, "What? From what Harry told me you give him ample time to react to your attacks, it's not like in a real fight that would be the case. How do you expect to know Harry's potential, when you don't know how he would react in a real-life situation?"

"Just to get that straight: you want us to attack Harry in order to find out if he still competes as well, when he isn't expecting it?", Rudolphus clarified, frowning.

"Something like that", that wasn't exactly what he had in mind, but it surely would be fun to watch- the Slytherins would get the shock of their lives, "Though, you should definitely ask Harry's opinion beforehand."

"Wait, so now we're supposed to prewarn him?", Rabastan asked unbelievingly, "You make no sense, Black. Either we surprise him or we don't, make up your mind!"

"Ask Harry if he agrees and if he does, you have to find a time, when he doesn't expect you", Sirius sighed, as if it was perfectly clear, which to him it was, "Was that just the sign for lunch? Great, I'm starving!"

The slender Marauder bounded up the stairs, leaving the three ex-Slytherins to discuss his suggestion.

At the same time, but in a completely different part of the castle, Harry was trying to convince the three werewolves to join him for lunch. However, while Damian and Remus had turned him down politely, Tanea with all the stubbornness of an eleven year old girl pretended to be still asleep and Harry didn't have it in his heart to wake her up. Still, he wasn't going to just give in:

"But, Remus, you have to eat something", Harry whined, concentrating his efforts on the alpha-werewolf, "Don't you always tell me, I should eat more? You need to heed your own advice, Remi!"

"Harry, I assure you that a bit more sleep will be better for me than a rich meal, though I'm all for it that you eat something", reasoned the sandy-haired man, "You should go now and tell Sirius why we're not coming, before he starts worrying his head off and threatening everyone who might cross his path..."

Harry winced at the thought of what Sirius would do, if they didn't show up, and decided that Sirius' safety was more at stake than the werewolves' health and hurried to prevent that from happening.

They had reached a decision. Well, he and his brother had, the Dark Lord was keeping out of it. This was their decision, he had said, martial arts was their subject. So now they were lurking in the shadows, waiting for Harry to pass by. It didn't feel right. But Black had suggested it. _Yeah, right, and Black is renowned for always having the best of plans, if he suggests something it's sure to be a great idea_, his inner voice piped up ironically. But they weren't exactly doing, what Black had told them to do... _which of course makes it a lot better_!

There was their target: Harry, their friend. His body set into motion, before he had really decided, they should go through with it. He was in Harry's back. His body moved like they had planned it and at the same time as he twisted the small boy's arms behind his back, his brother jumped out of his hiding and made to tie Harry's feet. The delicate Gryffindor seemed frozen and more scared then either of them had ever seen him, but then his spirit seemed to return to him. He pulled his feet from Rabastan's grasp, kicking hard against his head. The force of it threw Rudolphus off balance, whose back hit the floor hard, jerking Harry with him, who now drew his knees as high as possible, before arching his back and kicking Rudolphus in the stomach, freeing himself from his hold, coming to stand behind the masked elder brother. Rabastan had been torpid from the vicious kick to his head, but recovered quickly and started to battle against Harry. He was quite impressed that Harry still used the techniques, they had taught him, though he certainly moved faster- a lot faster. It dawned on him what Black had meant earlier, Harry always had been holding back during their training. But why? He had to back into the wall in order to escape Harry's punches and kicks, but his brother was nearing from behind. No way, could Harry defeat them both...

Ten minutes later, Harry had them pressed against two walls. His left foot was hovering millimetres away from Rudolphus' Adam's apple, ready to punch it at the slightest provocation and to let him choke to death. His right hand pressed Rabastan into the other wall, who was still a bit winded from the two kicks to his stomach only moments before.

"Who are you?", Harry hissed dangerously, "Take of your masks!"

They complied without hesitation but slowly, so as not to aggravate the situation further, revealing their brown hair, the tanned skin and the identical brown eyes.

Harry gasped, stumbling back, pressing himself against the opposite wall: "Why?"

The two brothers tried to reach out for him, but Harry only further shrank into himself, tears starting to roll down his face, as he murmured one final word, clutching something through his shirt: "Haven."

* * *

**At the moment it looks like this:**

**1. Tom/Harry (31)**

**2. Draco/Harry-slavefic (10)**

**3. Sirius/Harry (6)**

**4. Sirius/Harry-timetravel (9)**

**5. Draco/Harry-AU (17)**

**6. Lucius/Harry (29)**

**That would mean that I write another Tom/Harry story, but- please don't kill me- I thought about and although I came up with a lot of ideas for this one and definitely plan to write it, I would rather write a stroy with a different pairing right now. So that would mean Lucius/Harry, but at the moment I don't get a plot, when I think of it, I have certain ideas, but I have no idea how this story should develop and at the moment I would really like to write a not so dark story and that would be Sirius/Harry-timetravel. I haven't decided, yet, because it's really not a good idea to make desicions, when you're head feels like an elephant is balancing on top, but that's what it looks like today.**

**Well, yes, that was all, I think.**

**Please review!**


	24. Full Moon

**Disclaimer: Guess what? It's not mine! Nope! And I sadly make no money with this, it's sad I know...**

**Author's Note: I really have no idea what I should be writing. Ehm, next chapter is here. So read it.

* * *

**

**24. FULL MOON**

The Malfoy family had spent a nice day so far. A family day, if you will. They had talked about Narcissa's trip to France, looking at the photos, she had made, and the two new dresses, she had bought, then they talked about Draco's schooling and what subjects he should be taking and who would be in his classes, then they talked briefly about Lucius' businesses, but since Narcissa claimed that all those numbers were giving her a headache, they quickly moved onto the next subject: Harry. Narcissa really had embosomed the shy Gryffindor and now wanted to know everything that had happened in the last few weeks and the two male Malfoys were only to happy to oblige.

Lucius and Draco were in the middle of a tale, featuring the boy-who-lived, Macnair and a very angry Nagini, when they heard rumbling coming from the foyer, followed by choked sobbing and one of the house-elves appearing to inform them that a guest had arrived with a portkey. They exchanged surprised and questioning glances- only family members had portkeys and it was highly unlikely that a Malfoy would break down like this. Narcissa was the first to realise who was their guest and without pausing to inform her two men of her conclusion, she rushed to help the fragile Gryffindor who had occupied her mind and her heart earlier.

Harry had sunken to the black-and-white floor immediately upon his arrival, curling in on himself, no longer trying to hold back his tears. What had he done wrong? He didn't understand it, but the pain was almost physical. No, correct that, it was physical. He had a split lip, a black eye, a scratch over the same eye, his stomach was bruised as was his back, his right knee was bounced and was turning blue and swelling.

"Sweet Merlin, what happened, child?", Narcissa had reached the small figure and blowing all her pureblood manners to the wind, knelt down next to the trembling youth, pulling him into her arms.

Harry sobbed even harder, but didn't pull back from the awkward embrace. Draco and Lucius, for lack of a better idea, had followed Narcissa and were shocked as well about the state, Harry was in or at least the part of him, they could see, which wasn't much, since he had buried himself in Narcissa's sky-blue robes.

"What happened?", Draco was at their side in a matter of seconds, staring into his mother's eyes inquiringly, but she only could shrug her shoulders as a response and continue rocking the frail body in her arms.

"Who did this to you, Harry?", Lucius demanded, also crouching down, "We can't help you when you don't tell us what happened..."  
The Malfoys certainly talked at Harry for more than an hour, before he had shed all his tears and was willing to answer their question: "They attacked me", it burst out, still accompanied by several dry sobs, "I thought they liked me, if only a little bit, why did they attack me?"

"Who attacked you, Harry", Draco enquired with every intention to hurt the brutes, who had done this to Harry.

"Rudolphus and Rabastan", Harry snivelled, for the first time lifting his head a little so that they could hear him better, but not looking at them, "Why... Why did they do it?"

Lucius and Draco exchanged surprised, slightly unbelieving looks. No, it wasn't that they didn't believe him, because why would Harry lie about something like this and although Harry undoubtedly had a lot of secrets, they couldn't image him lying at all. Narcissa was only angry. How dare her brothers-in-law to attack a child and injure him so badly that the cut on his forehead was still oozing blood? And for no reason at all! Even if they had a reason, there was no good enough one to attack Harry. Sweet, innocent Harry, who would do everything to make others happy. At this moment she didn't particularly care that she acted like a mother hen like Molly Weasley, all she cared about was to make them pay. But first she would take care of Harry.

"Lucius, please go and enquire what the Lestranges thought, they were doing, when they were attacking Harry", her voice was sweeter than honey.

The blond nodded: "Let me take Harry to the living room first."

He scooped the delicate boy up, worried to find that Harry didn't weigh much more than when he had carried him away from his horrid uncle, albeit Draco's dutiful attempts to force-feed him, and carried him to the nearest room with a sofa, where he laid him down, his head resting in Narcissa's lap, who once again began stroking his hair and wiping away the stray tears that still escaped the green eyes, and once back again in the foyer apparated to Slytherin Castle- it was time to shed some light on this whole mess.

Narcissa wasn't the only one protective of the little Gryffindor and also his wrath wasn't nearly as imposing as hers- in his opinion at least- an angry Malfoy was a force to be reckoned with... He stalked in on them still sitting at the table, but none of them was eating not even Crabbe and Goyle, which had to be a first, but instead being yelled at by the Black heir. He halted for a moment, enjoying the show, an angered Black was one of the most magnificent sights he had ever encountered- and certainly amongst the most dangerous, though he could vividly imagine that Harry could give them all a run for their money- or maybe, make them run for their lives, if you pushed him to far.

"... don't you have an ounce of intelligence in your overgrown bodies?", Sirius shouted, alternating between pacing and staring them down, "How dare you attack my godson from behind? Did Azkaban mess with your brains or is it that you just never had one to begin with? Whatever possessed you to pull such a stunt?"

"That's something I would like to know as well", Lucius stated, making his presence known, walking swiftly to his chair, raising an eyebrow in question, but other than that looking completely indifferent and slightly bored, as if his decision had already been made.

Sirius immediately dived into the story, adding swearwords to emphasise his point and when the blond turned to the two Lestranges, after Black had finally run out of breath, they only looked down at their hands, nodding their heads and shrugging their shoulders.

"Well, I'll inform Harry of your account of the events", he stood up, regally looking down at them, "I wouldn't expect him to forgive you however."

"Try to persuade him to come back to the castle", Voldemort sighed.

Lucius nodded- it wouldn't do to have the Gryffindor hide from such idiots- and returned to his home, where he found his family and Harry in the exact same position, he had left them in, only that Harry was fast asleep and that Draco was munching on chocolate cookies, a sight he never expected to see.

"Has he calmed down?", he asked softly, sitting down on the arm of the sofa next to his wife.

"It took him a while, but I think the worst is over", the blonde witch whispered, so as not to disturb the sleeping boy, "What did you find out, honey?"

"I think we should wake him up so that he can judge for himself, but as I see it, they merely miscalculated his reaction", Lucius replied.

Narcissa nodded in acceptance and then leaned over Harry, kissing his forehead softly: "Wake up, dear, Lucius is back."

The emerald green eyes fluttered open, gazing up into the silver ones of the Malfoy family head: "Why?"

"It seems like your godfather suggested to them to test you, when you weren't expecting them, but urged them to run the idea past you, before doing anything which obviously they didn't do", he looked down at the raven-haired teen, trying to gauge his reaction, "If it cheers you up, they look as beaten up as you."

"I'm sorry", Harry whimpered miserably, "I didn't mean to hurt them."

"It's fine, Harry", Draco tried to console him, cupping Harry's face in order to make him look up, "We know that and they know that, too. Besides, they knew what they were getting into, if there's someone who should apologise it is them."

"And they do", added Lucius, "They asked me to convey their sincerest apologies to you and beg for your forgiveness. The Dark Lord also asks you to return to him, but you should know that you're as well welcome to stay here as long as you wish, Harry."

"Really?", the Malfoys all nodded at this question, "Thank you. But I still have to go back there to help Remus and the others."

"Understandable", Lucius smiled at him, "And this time there won't be any attacks, Harry."

Harry didn't seem convinced, though he didn't want to disrespect the older Malfoy by doubting him: "You trust me, don't you, Harry?"

"I trusted them, too, Lucius", the green-eyed boy whispered dejectedly, "Sorry."

"Oh, dear, it's not your fault", Narcissa reassured him, cradling him to her chest, "You can trust us, Harry, but you don't have to. Maybe it would help you, if we all came with you? I wanted to have a word with my brothers-in-law, anyway... Okay, Harry? We will protect you and that's a promise."

"Harry, come here for a moment, please", Lucius walked several steps away so that they could talk privately, "I will never betray you. I vowed to keep your secret and I did. And now I vow to protect you and I will. Do you understand? You're as important to me as Narcissa or Draco and we will not allow anyone to hurt you. Not ever. I realise that Rudolphus and Rabastan shattered your trust in them and in people in general, but a Malfoy never breaks his word."

"I believe you", mumbled Harry, "I just... I never want to experience something like that again. I was so helpless."

"That's why we will accompany you", Lucius replied, motioning for Narcissa and Draco to join them, "Nobody messes with the Malfoys."

"Big head", Harry chuckled fondly.

"Scaredy Cat!", he returned in the same manner, gently pushing him towards Narcissa, beckoning Draco to himself.

"Whippersnapper!", they readied themselves to apparate, or in Draco's and Harry's case to co-apparate.

"Squirt!", Lucius replied, before whisking him and Draco away, leaving Narcissa and Harry to follow.

"We really like you, Harry", the blonde woman told him sincerely, "Or do you think Lucius lets just anyone insult him? Draco just anyone tell him off and borrow his clothes? Or that I let just anyone cry all over my robes- and, no, Harry, I'm not angry. I just want you to remember that and now hold on tight."

Once again he felt himself whisked away to another place. He couldn't say that he particularly liked being apparated, but in his opinion it was considerably better than Floo Powder or Portkeys, which inevitably reminded him of the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament.

"Lucius, that was not fair", Harry chided reproachfully, after giving Narcissa a grateful look and a tentative smile, "You can't just apparate away in the middle of a discussion. That's rude!"

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry", Lucius replied, ignoring Draco's "Discussion, my ass!", who was being chastised by his mother for his language, "Maybe you could share some more of your views with me now? They truly are fascinating!"

"No, I'm afraid not", Harry answered, adopting a sorrowful expression, though mirth was dancing in his eyes, "You destroyed the mood."

"Well, maybe another time then", Lucius relented, "Ready to face them?", they had stopped outside of the dining hall, since it was around the time for dinner.

"You will stay with me, won't you?", Harry asked hesitantly, looking at all of them.

"We'll be at your side", Narcissa promised, taking him by the hand like a small child, and nodded to her husband to open the doors.

Inside they were met by a almost tangible tension and the stares from the assembled Death Eaters, plus the Dark Lord, plus Sirius and Remus, who had abandoned his nap in favour of supporting his adopted godson. Once again no-one was eating, the missing food probably the reason for it.

"Harry", the two Lestrange brothers exclaimed simultaneously and made to hug him, but Harry whimpered and hid behind Lucius and Narcissa, only Draco's calming presence in his back preventing him from fleeing the room and the castle all together.

"Stay in your seats", Lucius snarled at them, "It's quiet obvious, Harry doesn't want you anywhere near him."

The two mutely sat back down, watching silently as the Malfoys finally convinced Harry to take a seat at the table. The only problem was that the house-elves indeed had provided Remus with an additional chair, but since no-one had cared to inform them that Narcissa would be coming, too, there was one chair under.

"You can have my chair", Harry offered, not about to let the blonde witch talk him out of it, even going so far as to pull it out so that she could sit down more easily.

"Thank you, Harry", she smiled at him, "You're quite the young gentleman."

Harry grumbled something unintelligible that didn't sound very pleased: "Sirius, would you please switch seats with Remus?"

"Are you angry with me", Sirius asked insecurely, but did as asked, "I'm sorry, you know."

"I know, Siri. And I'm not angry I just don't like you very much right now", confessed the younger man, "I'd rather sit with Remus."

"Of course, Harry, no problem", Sirius agreed relieved, while the werewolf took the chair next to Narcissa and allowed Harry to sit in his lap.

"Remi, where are Damian and Tanea?", Harry asked concernedly, once everyone had settled down, "They should really eat something."

"Don't worry", Remus smiled reassuringly, "They're already downstairs and your house-elf made sure they had something to eat."

Harry nodded his consent and started in on his mashed potatoes- or rather Remus' mashed potatoes, but he didn't mind.

They had to hurry a little, since it was only one and a half hours till nightfall, but none of the Gryffindors was particularly eager to spend more time than absolutely necessary with the stiff Slytherins anyway.

"Harry", Rudolphus addressed the injured boy softly, when Harry made to leave the room after his godfather and Remus, but he and his brother didn't move from their chairs, so as to not to scare him away, "We just wanted to tell you that we're really sorry and hope that you one day will forgive us. If there's anything we can do to make it up to you, don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you", Harry said just as softly, "I already have forgiven you, but it's much more difficult to forget what happened. You should tend to your wounds."

With that he left them, closing the door after him and was once again delayed, but this time by his husband: "I just wanted to say goodnight and hope that you aren't angry with me, for what happened today. I admit that I didn't protect you to the best of my abilities and I'm sorry", there, he had said it, he apologised, he had never apologised before, but the smile on Harry's face was worth it and the small kiss to his cheek justified everything, "I'll walk you to your werewolf friends, but first Severus will tend to your injuries..."

"He doesn't have to, Damian almost finished his training as a healer, he'll fix me in no time, provided that I'll be there, before the moon rises. Are you coming, Tom?"

Harry smiled again and tentatively held out his small hand for Tom to take, who did so, returning the smile tenderly. Neither of them really knew what to say, so they spent the walk down in silence. Instead they kept shooting glances at the other, when they thought he wasn't looking.

"Goodnight, Harry", Tom lowered his head and captured Harry's soft lips with his own, giving him a sweet kiss goodnight, "Please be careful."

"I will", Harry returned, opening the door to the altered training room, "Sleep well, Tom."

Harry had entered Tanea's and Damian room, since they had agreed (more like Sirius had insisted on it and with Remus and Tom on his side had achieved it) that Harry would stay here, until they could be sure that Remus in his werewolf form wasn't aggressive towards Animagi. This way Harry would also be able to lend some moral support to Damian and primarily Tanea, who was once again engrossed in a book- if that girl wouldn't go to Ravenclaw, Harry would seriously start to question the Sorting Hat's efficiency. Damian on the other hand, was in the middle of helping Dobby to vanish their dishes, but stopped immediately, when he caught sight of Harry limping into the room.

"Merlin, what happened to you? You look like you were the only survivor of a pub brawl", he exclaimed worriedly, helping Harry to sit down on the soft grass.

"Long story, but I can assure you that my opponents survived as well", Harry grimaced with pain, as he jostled one of his wounds, "Can you fix me?"

"Sure, but we'll have to hurry", Damian agreed at once, concerned about the other wizard's condition, "Where does it hurt the most?"

"My knee", Harry carefully rolled up the leg of his jeans, revealing his swollen and greenish blue knee.

The werewolf made a sharp intake of breath, before he carefully examined Harry's leg and then performed several healing spells, doing his best to mend Harry's injuries, though some of the wounds would take time to fade completely. They finished just in time and while the two werewolves painfully morphed into their beastly counterparts, Harry changed into the small black panther with the brilliant green eyes and tried to appease them by licking their faces and purring soothingly. After several minutes their transformation was complete and the calm expressions on their faces proved that the potion was indeed effective. Harry examined them closely. Damian was about as large as Remus, but his fur was lighter and his body was longer and looked more haggard, while Tanea was clearly more of a pup than a fully grown wolf and had about the same fur colour as Damian, but a sharper nose and bigger ears.

She shakily explored the room, having a bit of trouble to move on four pawns instead of two feet, sniffing everything and from time to time yowling or snarling, when something was particularly interesting. Meanwhile Damian was nosing Harry, who accepted the attention without complaint, until the older werewolf gave an agreeing sound and Tanea started to check Harry and then Damian. They spent a while running around the room and Harry pulled a few stunts to cheer them up, however the unfamiliar strain had powered the younger werewolf out and she curled up in one of the corners, Damian sitting down near the stone to watch over his charge.

Harry mewed them goodnight, before he jumped onto the wall, that separated the two rooms, his eyes immediately searching for his godfather and the oldest werewolf. He let out a relieved sigh, or the panther equivalent for it, when he recognised the two canine forms, peacefully laying next to each other, with Sirius black head resting on Remus' front-pawns and the werewolf's head on the dog's neck. Harry mewed questioningly, drawing their attention to his small body crouched on top of the wall. They stood up and Sirius barked for Harry to come down, which he did without hesitation, sweeping around their legs in greeting, purring softly, when Sirius started to clean his fur with his tongue.

Finally after some silent communication, Remus moved to one corner of the room, Harry to the one opposite of it so that they had to biggest distance possible between them and Sirius stood between them, his eyes focused on the werewolf. All three seemed to take a deep breath, when Remus nodded giving Harry the sign to change into his human form. Every muscle in Sirius' body tensed in anticipation, ready to protect Harry with everything he had, but Remus stayed where he was, making no move to attack his adopted godson and only sniffed the air.

Harry crouched down in his corner, holding out his hand towards Remus, who slowly moved forward, Sirius always at his side. Harry appeared to be completely calm, his hand still outstretched, as he waited for Remus to accept him as a human and recognise him as one of his pack, but inside his nerves were also frayed, not so much on his behalf, but because Remus would never forgive himself, if he bit Harry. But their worries turned out to be unfounded, when Remus carefully sniffed Harry's hand, before licking it affectionately and the small boy laughed lightly and started to pat Remus' head.

"Everything alright, you two?", the two animals nodded in return, Sirius' nuzzling the werewolf's neck, "Should I turn back, Remus?"

The ex-professor shook his head and after a bit of family time, if you can call it that, they, too, settled down, after Harry had fetched a large blanket from a box in the corner and spread it over the three of them, Remus in the middle, with Sirius in his Animagus form in his back and Harry snuggled into Remus' soft fur.

* * *

**review? pleeeeeeeaaaaaase?**


	25. Weasleys and Owls

**Disclaimer: Of course I own this. J.K.Rowling stole it from me!... Only kidding (sadly), I don't own this and I don't think J.K.Rowling is a thief and if she were she would be a damn good thief and no-one could be angry with her for it. Anyway, I don't make money with this.**

**Author's Note: So, I've been told #coughSemikacough# that my author's note last time was pretty pointless- and no, I hadn't realised it #lol#- so now I'm writing something with more of a point. But first I have to tell you: I just saw President Bush walk across my screen in chicken disguise! Wonder what he's up o now? Well, anyway, to my point-having author's note:**

**Yesterday, I was pretty bored and so I decided to sort all your reviews and I just wanted to thank those of you who review regularly, but that I can't reply. So here it goes #drum rolls#**

**First my absolute thanks go to Perfect Mariontte for reviewing 16 times! hipphipphurray! (at this point I would like to add that I fully expect you to say things like this with me). Thank you so much, I love your reviews!**

**In second place comes TeeDee! Thank you for 8 wonderful reviews! Yay!**

**Then comes Karma with 7 reviews, who time and time again tried to kill my characters #snickers#. Thank you for making me laugh! #lol#**

**Hoshi also wrote 6 reviews for me, despite not knowing what to write. Thank you! By the way I hope you're feeling better, now. **

**I think I leave it at that, because I don't want to bore you to death. I justed wanted to thank them as well as all the other people that reviewed, thank you! I really appreciate it!

* * *

**

**21. WEASLEYS AND OWLS**

The next morning broke with bright sunshine and little birds twittering their hello to the new day, but alas, none of the people in the cellar noticed any of it because there was no window and although the ceiling emulated the sky, it was always cloudy so that no-one would be blinded by the sun, and the walls were so thick that no sound from the outside could penetrate them. But since Harry hadn't slept much anyway- honestly, you can't expect someone to sleep, after dozing almost the whole day- and instead had enjoyed the comfort of the two bodies wrapped around his, only dozing off around two in the morning, he woke as soon as the body behind him changed back and Sirius like on a reflex transformed into his human form, too, still fast asleep.

After Harry had freed himself from Remus' embrace- no matter that he trusted the werewolf unconditionally, he felt uncomfortable with a naked male body wrapped around him, not that he thought a female body would be much better, but that had never happened before and if he had his way it never would. In any event, he didn't like it, so he struggled out of Remus' arms, who mumbled something, before turning around and instead pulled Sirius close, who sighed blissfully- he smiled at the peaceful picture and rearranged the blanket, so that it covered them both, and slipped out of the room and into the adjourning one, where he covered the nude forms of Tanea and Damian, taking great care not to look anywhere else but their faces.

He then asked Dobby to prepare three rooms for the werewolves and when the small creature returned, telling him everything was set up, beaming from ear to ear with contentment, he first woke Tanea and then Damian, handing them their clothes, so they could get dressed and led them to their rooms, where they could rest more comfortably.

He then returned to the room he had stayed the night in, finding Sirius and Remus already awake, the later thankfully already dressed, and kissing tenderly caressing each other's bodies.

He cleared his throat, blushing lightly: "Am I disrupting something? I can come back later..."

"No, Harry, you're always welcome, come in", Remus smiled reassuringly at him, "We were just discussing whether we should go to breakfast now or ask Dobby to bring something up."

"Breakfast isn't for an hour, yet", Harry informed them, sitting down next to them, "How do you feel, Remi, is everything okay?"

"I feel great", Remus replied happily, "The transformation didn't hurt at all and I don't feel nauseous like I normally do. Severus really outdid himself this time."

"Well, I'm flattered", the Potion's Master's silky voice floated into the room, before he entered, "I guess it was too much to ask that you included Black in a little midnight snack? Oh, never mind...", Harry had thrown him an annoyed look, "I need another sample of your blood, Lupin."

Remus sighed, rolling up the sleeve of his shirt, but before Severus could take his blood, Harry determinedly pointed at the door: "I don't need to see anyone's blood before breakfast, thank you very much."

Severus sneered at him, but it held no malice, it was more of a friendly sneer, if that is even possible and left the room after the werewolf. Why he even bothered, he didn't know. No, to be honest, he did know. Harry was... intriguing, too say the least, and very loveable, though he thought himself incapable of such an emotion, but that was beside the point and if Harry didn't want to witness, when he sucked blood out of the werewolf's arm, who could blame him? And there was the fact that the Dark Lord had ordered him to be nice in a voice that clearly promised pain, if not obeyed.

Said Dark Lord descended the narrow staircase, just when the two had finished and came back down, to find Sirius and Harry sitting next to each other, the older man trying to tame Harry's unruly locks.

"Good morning", he greeted pleasantly, mostly to his husband, bending down to kiss him, shielding their faces with one of his hands, "I take it everything went well?"

"Yeah, but why are you already awake?", Harry asked curiously, his green eyes boring into Tom's red ones, "It's barely six."

_Oh, darling, I missed you terribly and when I woke and you weren't in my arms, I couldn't go back to sleep. _That was of course true- except the darling bit, because that was too plebeian- but he couldn't very well tell him that. Well, theoretically he could of course, because he could do everything he wanted and most likely Harry would even like it (or think he had lost his mind), but then maybe it would scare Harry away and make him look utterly pathetic and that just wouldn't do.

So instead he replied something about an early owl, while his hands automatically glided through Harry's silky hair, revelling in the almost inaudibly purr and the blush that followed immediately: "Are Black and Lupin staying?"

Harry's head snapped up at the casual question: "Really? May they stay?"

"I wouldn't have asked otherwise", he answered calmly, but was totally unprepared for the rapturous hug and the whispered thank you in his ear, he smiled softly at the boy in his arms, "So, I take that as a yes... How about you take a shower and then join us for breakfast?"

Harry smiled happily, happier than he had ever seen it on him before and after gathering his two Gryffindors, skipped upstairs. He dropped them of at their combined rooms so that they could also take a shower, before he raced to their rooms, partly because breakfast would start soon, but mostly because he still could feel Rudolphus' hands twisting his arms behind his back. He was not really angry at them, after all if he wasn't so skittish and paranoid because of his uncle, it would have been a more or less good idea. He was still surprised that he had mustered up the strength to fight back, with all those memories coming up with every touch, but somehow he knew it wasn't his uncle and he would die, before he allowed some stupid Death Eater to see him weak! Harry hoped he hadn't hurt them too badly.

He was just putting on fresh clothes, thankful for the privacy he had in the bathroom, when the shrill sound of the alarm system went off, announcing that someone had breached the wards. Harry had only heard them once, as Tom had showed him around and set them off on purpose so that Harry was prepared for everything. Tom had told him that in this case he should go into the next room, because they were all warded heavily and wait for him to fetch him, but Harry really didn't feel like staying here, not knowing what was going on, so he quickly made his way downstairs, since it was completely impossible to intrude on another level. One of his short cuts- it certainly had paid off that he had spent so much time exploring the castle and talking to the portraits of Tom's ancestors- brought him directly to the grand staircase, which led to the entrance hall. He halted at the top of the stairs, taking in the sight in front of him: All the Death Eaters stood in a circle, Tom with his back to Harry, their wands trained on a stiff figure with flaming red hair and shell-rimmed glasses. The situation looked very explosive.

"Stop!", he shouted, running down the steps, skipping every two ones, "That's Percy, I invited him. Put your wands down."

He had reached the circle of wizards and made to push through between Crabbe Sr. and Avery, when Tom's voice stopped him: "Don't go near him, it could be a disguise."

"Tom, don't be paranoid", Harry walked towards the redhead, "Hey, Percy, I'm sorry for this whole mess."

"At least ask him a question!", the Dark Lord demanded, not at all pleased that Harry waved his concerns away and risked his life in the process.

Harry rolled his eyes: "Percy, how are you doing?"

"Harry...", Tom hissed warningly and Harry sighed heavily: "Fine, did you know that Fred and George followed you?"

There were several surprised cries of "what?" or something similar and Percy shot the boy in front of him a blank look: "Aw, Harry mate, that wasn't very nice...", one of the twins complained, after they appeared on the stairs.

"... we could have had so much fun...", the other continued.

"...and we were getting a lot of blackmail."

"What are you two doing here, I told you I was busy!", Percy demanded to know.

"Brother dearest, we are busy, too, you know..."

"...pranking Ron..."

"...pranking Ginny..."

"...pranking Mum..."

"...pranking Dumbledore..."

"...hey, we haven't done that yet!..."

"...Well, it's about time we do..."

"...Right, you are. Anyway..."

"...we took the time out of our busy schedule to spent some time with you..."

"...and since you were leaving us all alone..."

"...which isn't a very good move by the way..."

"...we decided to follow you..."

"Enough!", Voldemort was getting a headache, "Harry are you sure those people are who you think they are?"

"Of course, Tom", Harry smiled at him, "I'm sorry I made you all get nervous."

"Everyone's dismissed", Voldemort ordered coldly, "Don't forget you have a lesson with Severus later", and disappeared in a huff.

"Don't mind him", Harry turned back to the Weasleys, "Do you want to have something to eat."

"I'm afraid, I don't have too much time on my hands", Percy said importantly, while they followed Harry into the breakfast hall, "You said you needed my help?"

"Yes, it's about Winky, Mr. Crouch's old house-elf", Harry answered, "She isn't happy here and I'd be very grateful if you put her up."

"You want to give me your house-elf? Harry, I can't accept this", Percy warded him off.

"You'd do me a favour, Percy!", argued the black-haired boy, "She said, she would like to work for you and frankly she gets on my nerves and I doubt that the Death Eaters take kindly to being insulted by her, please?"

"Take heart, Percy-boy...", one of the twins interrupted.

"...To save the world..."

"...you have to take small steps..."

"...or you'll come a cropper", the second one finished wisely.

In combination with Harry's best puppy dog eyes, that did it for the older Weasley brother and he nodded his consent and when Winky plopped into view, bowing deeply in front of her new Master, he sent her to his apartment to clean up, before he made his good-byes and left Fred and George alone with Harry to have breakfast with the Death Eaters, who gradually trickled in, taking their seats around the table.

"So, Harrykins, how is life?", Fred asked from his seat to Harry's right.

Harry shrugged uninterestedly: "I'm fine, Fred. How are you?"

"He's not Fred, I am", the other twin answered indignantly, but Harry just raised his eyebrow mockingly, "How does he do that?"

Fred looked equally as annoyed and curious, so far Harry was the only who could differentiate between the two, but that didn't keep them from testing him every now and then: "So, what did we hear from ickle Ronniekins? You have been naughty..."

"... or more like not naughty enough?"

"Are they still angry with me?", Harry asked sadly, "I didn't mean to hurt them, but..."

"...**you** didn't hurt them!...", George interrupted him vehemently.

"...Only deflated their ego a little..."

"...which will do them good..."

"...We're more worried about you, Harry,..."

"...and wanted to apologise for our siblings' behaviour..."

"...and inform of all the pranks we pulled in retaliation."

"Thank you", Harry gave them a sincere smile, "But what did you mean with siblings? Are they all angry with me?"

"No, Harrypoo", Fred assured him gently.

"Ron is an idiot..."

"...as per usual..."

"...but Ginny is much worse..."

"... she's angry at Ron for kissing you..."

"... and angry at you for not falling head over heels for her. "

"That's what we meant with siblings..."

"Ron's and Ginny's weeks weren't to pleasant then?", Harry asked with a rueful smile, feeling a bit guilty for putting the Weasleys through something like this, but also glad that Fred and George were on his side.

The twins nodded eagerly: "Neither was Mum's, for some reason, her cooking skills have vanished into thin air..."

"...needless to say, they all will lose a lot of weight."

"Do they all hate me?", Harry asked resignedly, his eyes darker than usual.

"Ginny and Ron do, obviously..."

"...so does Hermione, jealous as she is..."

"...Mum is on their side..."

"...she had this dream about you and Ginny producing a lot of red-haired children..."

"...Dad is not really against you, but on Mum's side..."

"...can't stand up to her..."

"...but Charlie is on your side..."

"...said something about you having the right touch with dragons..."

"...Bill is on your side..."

"...because Fleur is on your side..."

"...Percy actually likes you..."

"...after he finally pulled his head out of Fudge's ass..."

"...he regained some of his brains..."

"...yours truly, of course totally support your decision to kick their asses."

"Thank you", Harry said once again, hugging both of them, "So what did you do to them?"

The twins shared a conspiratorial smirk, before they recounted all the pranks they had pulled in their weird twin talk and let him in on some of the ones that were still in planning. After they had talked for a few minutes Harry got the impression that Ginny's, Ron's, Mrs. Weasley's and Hermione's holidays had taken a turn for the worse since their trip to Diagon Alley.

"...the best is that Hermione relieved us on most of the work, because she's totally devastated that for once she isn't the best in the year...", Fred laughed and Harry could vividly imagine Hermione's crestfallen face.

"...though we were wondering who it could be..."

"...have you kept something from us, Harrykins?"

"I keep a lot of things from you", Harry gave back, "But I doubt that I surpassed Hermione's scores and since the Ministry seems to have forgotten my results anyway, there's no way to know."

"Harry, have you read today's Daily Prophet, yet?", Tom asked cautiously, having heard the last sentence, despite his attempts to ignore the three Gryffindor's chatter.

"What?", Harry turned to him surprisedly, "I never read the Daily Prophet, you know that."

"Maybe, you should today. Your OWL results are in it...", he held out the paper, which Harry immediately snatched away, the blood draining from his face and his hands clenching around it.

The article occupied the whole front page, the bold headline screaming: "_Harry Potter's outstanding results- did his teachers nurture his skills to the best of their abilities?"._

_While the boy-who-lived merely achieved more or less average results in the last four years of his schooling, his teachers often describing him as a 'normal teenage boy', his OWLs came as a surprise to everyone, although the Headmaster Albus Dumbledore assured us that he had always seen the chance of greatness in the Saviour of the Wizarding World and that Harry Potter was getting all the help needed..._

It followed a long paragraph on the teacher's point of view and speculations, if Harry had received special training to improve so drastically, but Harry didn't read anything more, jumping to the listing of his results, though he couldn't care less about them at the moment. How dare the Ministry give his results to the Daily Prophet instead of him? At the moment he felt like turning the whole useless Ministry into frogs and use them in his next potion, which was the reason he tried to concentrate on his results:

_Charms: Practical- O; Written- O; Average- O_

_Transfiguration: Practical- O; Written- O; Average- O_

_Defence against the Dark Arts: Practical- O+; Written- O; Average- O+_

_Potions: Practical- O; Written- O; Average- O_

_Astronomy: Practical- E (every student was gained by one grade, due to distraction they were exposed to); Average- E_

_Care of Magical Creatures: Practical- O; Average- O_

_Divination: Practical- E; Average- E_

_History of Magic: Written- P (due to the incident in the Ministry of Magic, in which Harry Potter once again faced He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, he will be granted the chance to resit the exam on Friday the 29th August); Average- P._

Harry didn't know why this made him even angrier, shouldn't he rejoice at the fact that he got a second chance in History? And if not rejoice than at least be nervous about the exam? But he wasn't. Everyone who had read today's Daily Prophet knew before him what results he had, what his teachers thought about him and what he would be doing today! This was supposed to be private! They had no right to give out such information about him! None of them cared that he spent whole days in the library hiding from all the looks he received. None of them cared that he had studied particularly hard to get Severus' approval. None of them cared that he had had a lot more time after his Quidditch ban and had spent this time on his homework to block out the happy flying outside. And none of them cared that he had paid attention to Hermione's lectures and had kept to her schedule. And of course they had to drag last years encounter with Tom into it as well and now everyone would think that the Ministry made exceptions for him. Ron would never forgive him, neither would Hermione for that matter.

He didn't notice that the newspaper had already burnt to ashes and that the table was shaking violently, the glasses on it bursting into little pieces. He didn't hear the "uh oh" Fred and George muttered at the same time, backing off and motioning for everyone else to follow their example. He didn't even take note of the tears that ran down his face. He wanted this to stop! Couldn't they leave him alone for once? And instead of analysing his achievements like the newest broom on the market, just be proud of him as a person?

The other wizards had retreated as far as possible without leaving the hall, following with widened eyes as the plates cracked.

"What is going on?", Voldemort demanded of the twins, "What did you mean with your 'uh, oh'?"

The twins exchanged a look: "Harry's losing his temper..."

"...more like lost it already..."

"...and that is definitely not good..."

"...unless you wanted to redecorate anyway..."

"...or you were under the impression that your house-elves were underemployed..."

He tuned them out again focusing on Harry. He had never seen him loose his temper before, although Lucius and Rudolphus had told him about the day in Dumbledore's office. Well, he had seen him the next day, but his outburst then was not comparable with how much magic he released today. Cautiously he approached his husband who had sunk down on his chair, oblivious to the chaos around him.

"Little one, hey", he didn't need to fear that his Death Eaters would hear the tenderness in his voice, "What is wrong?"

He laid a hand on Harry's shoulder, not expecting him to swivel around glaring daggers him: "This is all your fault", his small fists pounded against his chest, "Why didn't you kill me and get it over and done with?"

Since Tom couldn't very well push Harry into the table, he implemented the second best option and pulled Harry closer and seeing as Harry's fist-pounding slowly subsided this was also much more comfortable: "If you remember, I already tried that a couple of times", he was a little worried about Harry's outburst, but sincerely hoped it was just the spur of the moment as he traced the white scar on Harry's forehead with his forefinger, "And I'm quite glad I failed", he kissed the lightning bolt and drew the boy to his chest, "And I want you to be happy, too, and if you aren't yet, well, then I'll just have to work harder, right?"

Harry sobbed into his chest: "Why can't they just leave me alone?"

"You know what is positive about this, Harry?", he said gently, kissing the mop of unruly black hair, "No? Well, the Wizarding World must be very boring when your OWLs make the front-page. Nothing bad has happened, of course thanks to me, though if you want me, I could make them see your point of view."

The Gryffindor gave a weak chuckle and looked up at him with watery eyes: "Thank you, but no thank you."

"It was worth a try", Tom sighed mock-disappointedly, however he couldn't care less about his entertainment at the moment, Harry's happiness was far more important, "Do you want to resit the exam? You don't have to, we can just close off the castle..."

"Might as well", Harry rubbed his eyes furiously, but Voldemort stopped him and started to carefully wipe away the tears with his thumps, "Where are Sirius and Remus?"

"As far as I know, Severus forced the werewolf to rest and Black decided to keep him company", the red-eyed man calmed his shorter husband, "But they are both alright and Severus is certain that the new potion worked faultlessly."

The twins had approached them again both with identical smirks on their faces: "Well, Harrykins..."

"...we see that you're in good hands...", their smirks widened even more, "...and so we will take our leave..."

"...but should you need anything..."

"...don't hesitate to ask."

Harry hugged them both: "Thanks for your visit, George, Fred, and thank you that you don't hate me."

"We are the ones who should thank you..."

"...thanks to you..."

"...we have a lot of volunteers..."

"...to test our newest products...", they both bowed deeply, before chorusing, "Gred and Forge are always at your service, little bro'", and they turned on their heels, walking to the entrance hall to disapparate.

"They give me a headache", Voldemort murmured darkly, trying to murder them with his eyes, until he felt two small, soft hands massaging his temples.

When he turned his eyes again on his husband, Harry was even closer than before and stood on his tiptoes so that he could reach up to his head and he looked pretty concerned. Green locked with red, as they looked into each others eyes for a short eternity, Harry's hands still resting against the Dark Lord's temples, but no longer moving in soothing circles. Tom wanted nothing more than to capture Harry's rose pink lips with his own, but was afraid it would break the moment and so instead, he slowly removed Harry's milky white hands from his head, holding them between his own tanned ones, and then affectionately pressed his lips on the delicate wrists, pertaining their eye contact, but Harry lowered his gaze to his wrists, seemingly fascinated. Tom couldn't contain a chuckle any longer which caused Harry's head to snap back up.

Before either of them could remark on the intimacy between them- though Harry wasn't really aware of it, since he had only tried to help his husband- the other Death Eaters, Draco and Narcissa resumed their seats at the table, which prompted Tom to sit back down, pulling Harry into his lap.

"When is this examination, anyway?", Harry asked morosely, glaring at the pile of ashes that had previously been a newspaper.

"I believe they expect a written confirmation from you", supplied the Dark Lord.

"Fine", Harry muttered gloomily and picked up the self-inking quill Tom had conjured up for him.

_Dear Ministry of Magic,_

_I hope this letter reaches you in good health both physical and mental. But I guess there's no need to be worried about the later, since you just showed today how apt you are in this area. I sincerely congratulate you to and say thank you for the glorious idea to send my OWL results to the Daily Prophet in place of me. This was of course very convenient for me, since I as a matter of principle refuse to open any of my letters but follow the Daily Prophet's every edition with rapt attention and since it was of course my intention from the start to share every little, insignificant detail of my life with the public (please, be so kind as to note the sarcasm)._

_Consider this a warning, dear Ministry of Magic, I have no interest whatsoever to have personal information dragged out into the open and to serve as your saviour or scapegoat, depending on the respective Daily Prophet. If you think I'm strong enough to save you all, you should think twice about treating me like a weak, foolish boy again, and well, if you don't, then there's no reason to treat me like the boy-who-lived. Believe me, when I say: You don't want me as your enemy, for even the weakest can do more than enough harm, especially if set in a position of power._

_Now that we have cleared all the little misunderstandings, I would like to thank you for the second chance for my History of Magic exam you granted me and accept the offer. If you will owl me time and place, I will gladly resit the exam._

_Yours truly Harry J. Potter_

_PS: A word of advice, make sure the contents of this letter stay within the walls of the Ministry._

"Are you sure you want to send it like this?", Tom asked cautiously, who had been able to read what Harry was writing without problems, "They are after all the Ministry of Magic."

"I'm absolutely sure, Tom", Harry smirked, "I am after all Harry Potter. Could you lend me your owl, though, Hedwig is delivering a letter to Neville?"

"You can use Abraxas", Lucius offered, referring to his storm-grey eagle owl, "He knows the way and he has a rather vicious beak, you could certainly persuade him to deliver more than words."

The black-haired boy chuckled softly, while he meticulously folded the parchment: "Thank you, Lucius", Harry handed over the letter.

"Harry, would you rather we postpone the Healing Potions lesson so that you can go through your History notes?", Severus asked generously.

"Are you joking?", the Gryffindor laughed, "Absolutely no-one listens to Binns, let alone takes notes- well, Hermione does, but... whatever. I doubt I could memorise anything about goblin wars or vampire treaties or some new regulation the Ministry came up with in 1764. But if you want to do something else, that is fine as well."

"Well, then let's get started", the Potion's Master demanded, getting up.

* * *

**You know I have theory: The more reviews I get the faster I update. It's only a theory, but you could try it out nonetheless...**


	26. The Exam

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

**Author's Note: After the really point-having note last time I have to continue that way. So here it goes: This chapter contains a RAPE/ABUSE flashback and though once again it's not really graphic, at least not in my opinion, you shouldn't read it, if you have any reason not to (that again was pretty pointless #shrug#). I marked it where the rape starts and ends and you can just skip that paragraph.**

**26. THE EXAM**

The owl from the Ministry arrived somewhere around two o'clock, as Harry was sitting in what had been dubbed his study, going through the last of the chemistry notes, telling him that the examiner, one Edward Parks, would be coming at exactly three o' clock and that the exam would start at quarter past, lasting three hours. Of course Harry wasn't very experienced in resitting exams, but he was pretty sure that normally the examinee was expected to show up at the examiner's and not the other way round, though he hazarded a guess that the Ministry was rather curious how Voldemort's lair looked like.

So it came to no-one's surprise, when at the appointed time a stocky wizard with twitchy eyes that seemed to jump from one corner to the other in less than a heartbeat appeared within the ring of Death Eaters, whom Tom had deemed necessary to give of the right first impression.

"Good afternoon", he squeaked, apparently irritated be the wands unwaveringly trained on him, "I'm Edward Parks, who of you might be Harry Potter?"

"That would be me", Harry replied from his place next to Tom, who had previously ordered him to stay behind him, "Good afternoon, Mr. Parks."

The watery brownish eyes landed briefly on the small body next to the imposing form of the Dark Lord, whom he didn't dare to look at: "We should start..."

"Not so fast, Mr. Parks", Voldemort hissed in his best I'm-a-evil-Dark-Lord-and-like-to-think-up-ways-to-torture-small-childrens-in-order-to-fall-asleep, "Since your in my home, there're a few rules, you should be aware of: First you will stay in the room with Mr. Potter at all times, you will not stray from there under any circumstances, you will not touch anything, unless you have been explicitly asked to do so and you will hand over your wand."

Parks sputtered at a loss for words, but still not looking at the Dark Lord: "I'm a representative of the Ministry of Magic- I have political integrity!"

"I'm the Dark Lord and I don't care for your integrity", Tom smirked contemptuously, keeping Harry with an outstretched hand from interfering, "So you either hand over your wand right now, leave or you will be attack. It's your choice."

Parks' eyes danced along the lines of Death Eaters, who stood with impassive faces, as if calculating his chance to survive their curses, before he extracted his wand and threw it at Voldemort, who caught it with ease: "This way, Mr. Parks", Tom said, giving his servants a sign to blend into the background, but to keep an eye on the examiner, and motioned to the door taking Harry's hand without attracting attention.

He led them into one of the barely used studies, where he left his husband alone with the podgy examiner, wishing him good luck.

"Mr. Potter, thanks to your husband's interference we're already past the starting time, so I suggest you commence right now. Here's your quill and the questions. I don't want to hear a peep from you. Begin."

Harry rolled his eyes, to him it was obvious that Mr. Parks tried to compensate for his defeat against Voldemort by ordering him around, but he didn't really care as long as the other wizard left him alone, he would be fine. He sat down on the table near the open window, wanting to have a fresh breeze of air to cool his nerves, and stared at the first question. _Describe in short the rises and downfall of the Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, going into his second rise._ Surely, this was a joke, right? He read the next question: _Try to analyse the Dark Lord's strategy. _Harry skimmed over the rest of the questions, finding that all of them concerned Voldemort in one way or the other. He was tempted to just walk out of that room, leaving the exam torn into little pieces or write another letter to the Ministry on his parchment, but then he thought better of it. They wanted inside information and who was he to refuse such a simply request? And so he set to work, putting all his anger into the words. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his examiner walk along the walls, often standing at the door, listening to any sounds. Harry could of course have told him that this was completely fruitless, since Tom had spelled the room sound-prove, but he wasn't allowed to speak, so he just let the hilarious behaviour inspire his answers.

"Time's up", Parks called at twenty past six, snatching the paper from his fingers, "I'll correct it right now. You can wait outside!"

Harry gave him a brilliantly false smile and sauntered out of the room, where he was received by the Malfoys, Severus and Tom.

"How did it go?", Draco asked him as soon as the door snapped shut.

"I decided I should become an author", Harry announced, "And I hope you like chocolate, Tom."

"Why?", the red-eyed wizard asked, puzzled.

"I wrote you were allergic to it", Harry shrugged his shoulders, "And you are afraid of Nifflers, your favourite colour is Slytherin-green and you don't know the counter spell to Stupefy."

"Care to explain that to me?", Tom raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Well, they asked stupid questions, so they got stupid answers", Harry shrugged again, "If I remember correctly question seven asked in a roundabout way ways to kill you and question fourteen was whether it's possible for a large group of trained Aurors to storm the castle without you knowing. And if you don't like chocolate there'll be more for me, I'm sure they'll try to poison you with it."

"You really did this?", the Dark Lord asked again and when Harry nodded, he started to laugh, pulling the smaller boy into his arms, "You're priceless, Harry", he couldn't completely mask his relief that Harry hadn't jumped at the chance to get rid of him.

Tom reluctantly let go, as Harry pulled back, but was glad he did so, when Parks stuck his ugly head out of the room only moments later: "Mr. Potter, you can come back in to receive your certificate, since I'm not allowed to come out", if he had dared to look at Voldemort, he surely would have glared at him, but so he made do with focusing his twitching eyes for a second on the floor, "I also have your school letter and your OWL results."

"Just hand them over and then go", Tom growled menacingly, "I assure you that Mr. Potter is quite capable to read the results for himself. Here is your wand."

In the same swift movement, he offered the examiner his wand, he drew his own, as did the other Death Eaters, who had once again emerged from the shadows. The Ministry representative gave an undignified squeak and vanished without further ado after having shoved a pile of parchments into Harry's hands and grabbing his wand.

Harry rolled out the parchment on which he had written his answers finding to his amusement a misshapen red O under it and then finally held his OWL report in his hands, which now sported another Outstanding instead of the Poor and the note that he was the best student in his year, since his teaching the DA had also been assessed as kind of an extra lesson. When he opened his school letter, he saw not only the usual note that the school term would start on Monday, 1st of September, but also information that his Quidditch ban had been revoked and that he had been made Captain of the Quidditch team and reinstated as Gryffindor's seeker.

"Seems like we'll be playing against each other, Draco", Harry smiled looking at the older boy, "Who's Slytherin's team captain, by the way?"

"I, of course", Draco smirked, "Do you still think you'll beat me?"

Harry laughed happily: "Of course I will, Draco, but don't be sad, I'm sure you'll shoot three or four goals, too."

Draco playfully slapped Harry's head: "Maybe, I'll shoot you through one of the loops, you're certainly small enough..."

"You just wait!", Harry raced after the fleeing and laughing blond, leaving the others to amuse themselves.

He tackled Draco once he caught up with him and they both tumbled to the ground, rolling around on the floor, until Draco came out on top, pinning the smaller boy to the ground. Draco smirked down at the green-eyed boy, chuckling as Harry tried to push him away and scowled up at him.

"Let me sum this up: Draco Malfoy one, Harry Potter zero", he teased, "Now what should I do we you?"

"Get off, Draco. You're heavy", Harry pouted cutely, shoving against the blond's chest.

"Oh, I don't think so, Harry", he purred and straddled Harry's delicate form, "You've left me alone awfully much this past few days, so I think I should take advantage of this new development. You have your choice between staying here and go swimming in the sea or to go visit Blaise and celebrate his birthday."

"I didn't know it was his birthday", Harry muttered, "You go and celebrate his birthday with him."

"No, Harry, either you come, too, or I stay here", Draco argued, still sitting on Harry's belly.

"But he's your best friend!", the black-haired boy protested weakly, "He certainly wouldn't want me there."

"Blaise invited you and he doesn't do things just because others expect him to do so, Harry. He really likes you."

"Tom wouldn't allow it...", Harry began, but the blond interrupted him: "I asked him, when the invitation arrived yesterday and he allowed it under the condition that you're back before midnight."

"But I have no present for him", the black-haired Gryffindor said, "And it's his birthday!"

Draco shook his head, Harry didn't make it easy for him to persuade him: "His birthday is on September 1st, he just celebrates it today out of tradition and so that his parents can be there, too, so if you really want to give him something, which you don't have to and which he doesn't expect, you can give it to him on the train. And now come on or there won't be any cake left", he got up and held out his hand to help Harry up.

They flooed to Zabini Mansion, Draco catching the smaller boy, as he tumbled out of the fireplace after having knocked his head on the mantel, attracting the attention of the other people in the room.

"Draco, Harry", their host, Blaise Zabini, walked over to them, thumped Draco on the back and ruffled Harry's hair, who futily tried to hide behind the blond, "I was almost worried you wouldn't come anymore. If you're fast enough, you might be able to save a piece of cake from Vince and Greg", he motioned to the two tall boys, who shared their fathers' passion for all kinds of food.

Draco immediately stalked over to the two Slytherins and loaded the last two pieces of the coffee cream cake on two plates, glaring at Vincent Crabbe, as he dared to protest, while Harry unsurely stood next to the fireplace, taking in all the Slytherins assembled in the room. Crabbe and Goyle junior, or Vince and Greg as Blaise had called them, of course watched over the food and beverages, though Harry had noticed that their fathers weren't as stupid as one would assume, if you saw their blank faces if asked a question, but actually were more than two walking piles of muscles. On the sofa sat Pansy and Ted, seemingly waiting for Blaise to join them again in their card-game.

"Come on, Harry", Blaise gently pushed him towards the sofa to the seat between Pansy and Ted, "Or do you intend to stand around the whole evening."

"Harry", Pansy squealed delightedly and rapturously threw her arms around his thin body, "It's great you two finally showed up. How have you been?"

"I'm sorry we're late, it was not Draco's fault", apologised Harry and tried to vanish into the cushions.

"Not this again, Harry", Draco reprimanded and plopped into one of the leather armchairs, "You don't have to apologise for anything. He had to resit his History exam", he explained to the others, while he handed Harry one of the plates, who started to eat slowly.

"Oh, yes, I remember, you fainted in the middle of it", Pansy mused, "What happened?"

"I didn't faint!", Harry said indignantly, "It's just not very enjoyable to have a vision of your godfather being tortured pushed into your head."

"Ah, so that was the reason you went to the Ministry", the only girl in the room concluded, "I wondered about that. You can never be sure that those idiots from the Daily Prophet got it right."

"How did you get there?", Draco asked, "My dad only told me that you more or less messed about with them long enough for the Order of the Flaming Flamingo to show up."

"Thestrals", Harry muttered shortly, trying to make it clear that he didn't want to continue this conversation

"You can see them?", Blaise asked interested, noting his mistake too late, when Harry's lips thinned to a narrow line and his eyes closed off as he stood up, intending to make his way back to the fireplace: "Yes, I saw Cedric die and now if you will excuse me, I don't find the conversation agreeable for me. I hope you have a nice birthday."

"Harry, come on, it was stupid and insensitive of me to ask such a question", Blaise pleaded, "Don't leave now. We'll talk about something else, okay? You haven't finished your cake yet, please?"

But Harry had already halted midway to the fireplace, because Vince and Greg were unintentionally blocking his way with their big bodies. They had wanted to refill the bowl of crisps in their hands and most likely join the others on the sofa, but had turned around , when they felt the presence in their backs, looking their most intimidating. Of course when they recognised Harry, they relaxed immediately, but the harm was already done and the much smaller boy shied away from them, whimpering softly, his eyes wide in terror.

"Potter", Vince grunted in what he assumed a calming voice, but it only served to aggravate the situation further, as did the voices that came from the sofa.

Harry sank to the floor and curled into himself, once again the small twelve year-old his uncle had tried to squeeze the magic out of.

_It was the day after his twelfth birthday, but as far as Harry was concerned, it could have been any other day just as well, since he hadn't got any presents or even a card, because that weird house-elf didn't want him to go back to Hogwarts. Obviously, Dobby had no idea what he was demanding of Harry. Whatever danger was in store for him at his school was certainly nothing compared to the danger, he faced here. He wasn't even sure, if he would survive the summer, but most likely he would, because what would his uncle do without his little plaything and Aunt Petunia without someone she could blame for everything that went wrong starting with the way her hair looked and ending with the weather? And of course they needed someone to do all their chores, which was his activity at the moment- not that he ever did much else. Right now he was cleaning the house, not that it needed cleaning, and since he already did all the bedrooms and the bathroom, it was time for the living room. _

_He hated the living room, in part because it was the biggest and definitely the messiest room, since Dudley spend all of his free time in there, munching crisps and slurping milk shakes, covering the floor and sofa with crumbles, plastic bags and stains, but mostly, because it was full with photographs of his relatives: his cousins first ride on a bike, his cousin sitting in front of the television, all three of them leaning against Uncle Vernon's new car, his aunt's and uncle's wedding day, his cousins last ride on his father's shoulders, before he infinitely became too heavy, his Aunt Marge and Aunt Petunia sitting next to each other on a park bench, watching Dudley, as he 'played' with Harry, Dudley's first school day, Dudley and his best-friend Piers licking ice cream, Uncle Vernon in his best suit at the day he was nominated, as the most successful business man of the year,... _

_Harry all knew them by heart, having dusted them uncountable times and so he knew that he was on none of them, unless you counted his bruised arm that stuck out under Dudley's blubbery body. He sighed quietly and walked over to the mantelpiece where the wedding photo, Dudley's first school day and the family picture in front of the car had their places, when suddenly the bulking form of his uncle blocked his way._

_"You", he stabbed his fat finger at his trembling nephew, as if Harry was mentally retarded, "You haven't been punished for your freakishness from yesterday night!", Harry had a bit of a problem to understand his uncle because he slurred the words and swallowed parts of them, a sure sign that he was drunk- it was never good, when he was drunk, "The Masons cancelled the deal because of you, freak! And you made us think that you were allowed to do those freakish things! I think, it's time you learned a lesson."_

_He grabbed his nephew by the too large shirt and dragged him to the smallest bedroom of Privet Drive, number 4. It no longer belonged to Harry but rather served as a storage room for Dudley's old things, since he thought Harry had contaminated it. They had put him in there for two days at the beginning of the holidays so that they could say that he lived there and they also put his things there, because Harry was back in the cupboard. _

_"Uncle Vernon, Sir", Harry almost sobbed, though there were no tears escaping from his eyes, "I'm sorry, Uncle Vernon, you have to believe me, it wasn't me...", his uncle knocked him head first against the wall: "Shut up, freak, I'll teach you a lesson", there was a eager gleam in his bleary eyes._

**BEGINNING OF RAPE SCENE:**

_He pushed open the door, which emitted an ominous creak and jerked a still dazed Harry onto the old bed. Harry didn't dare open his eyes for fear of what he might see, but the sound of a zipper being opened and trousers being discarded told him everything he didn't want to know. His uncle roughly pulled down his too big jeans, letting the rope which had held them in place cut into Harry's thin hips and his boxer shorts were torn apart, leaving the pale, small ass exposed. _

_Harry knew what was coming next, though his uncle had only done it five times before: the first time after the police officer had brought him home, the second time, when he had somehow vanished the glass, separating Dudley from a huge boa constrictor, the third time after the first of his school letters had arrived, the fourth time when he had come back from Diagon Alley, with an owl and dozens of packages full of magical utensils and the fifth time on his first day back from school, when Petunia and Dudley had gone out to order a new set of uniforms for the rapidly growing boy. That was something Harry could count on, Uncle Vernon would only do this, when his aunt and cousin weren't home, though he knew for a fact that Petunia was aware of it._

_He felt large, fleshy hands stroke his buttocks in a mockery of a caress, while his uncle muttered again and again that he would teach him a lesson for his misbehaviour, till the muttering turned into grunts and something large and hard thrust into the cleft of his ass, tearing the soft tissue. Harry bit down on his lower lip so as not to cry out and willed the tears to stay behind his tightly shut lids as he felt his own warm blood trickle down his inner thighs. With one final thrust and groan Uncle Vernon came, coating Harry's insides with his semen. Unconcerned about the additional pain he pulled out of his nephew, aggravating the tears in his anus and redressed, while Harry lay motionless on the mouldy bed, the blood and semen mixing and sipping into the coarse and moth-eaten blanket. _

**END OF RAPE SCENE**

_He hardly felt it, when his uncle unbuckled his belt and whipped his back, leaving a criss-cross of welts and cuts so that he had something to show to Aunt Petunia, something he wasn't trying to hide, and only subconsciously realised that he was supposed to wash up and finish his chores before his aunt came back._

Draco, Blaise, Pansy, Ted, Vince and Greg didn't know what to do anymore, they had tried to talk to Harry, but whenever they raised their voices even just a little, Harry flinched violently. Pansy had tried to put an arm around his shoulders, but Harry's whimpering grew louder and he squirmed away from her touch, protecting his head with his arms and hands. Ted had even sung something that he deemed a lullaby, though no-one blamed Harry for his lack of positive response to that one because Ted clearly wasn't destined to make a musical career.

"What did you do, you two oafs?", Draco hissed to Greg and Vince not for the first time, but kept the volume down and his eyes on Harry's shaking form, "If you had just flexed your muscles, Harry would have no reason to act like this."

Vince grunted once again, making Harry curl even tighter in on himself, clearly displeased, but didn't say anything. Neither he nor Greg were very talkative, though he still said much more than the slightly taller boy, who was yet to say anything.

"Maybe, we should fetch my mum and dad", suggested Blaise, "They could use a Calming Spell on him."

"I doubt that bringing even more people here in order to shoot spells at him is the right approach", Pansy snubbed him, "Perhaps if we just leave him alone, he'll calm down...?"

"I won't leave him here alone, while he's in this state", Draco glared at her, "Salazar knows, what could happen to him."

"Well, since we can't leave or fetch someone to help, let's try to find out what caused this", Ted reasoned, ever the sensible one, "What exactly happened?"

"He got up, after I had asked this questions about the Thestrals", answered the dark-skinned boy, "And he walked towards the fireplace, but stopped when he noticed Greg and Vince."

"Good, now how did he react, when he saw you?", Ted asked the two large Slytherins.

"He froze, his eyes went really wide and then he squeezed them shut and backed off", Greg spoke up for the first time, since Vince's manner of speaking seemed to worsen Harry's condition, "Vince called his name and when you tried to talk to him, he sank to the floor and curled up."

"Keep talking", Draco ordered in a whisper, motioning at Harry's small form, whose tremors had subsided to a light shivering, but who was still trying to make himself as small as possible, "But not about this, something pleasant."

Greg thought for a second: "Harry?", he called softly, crouching down, so that he was more on eye level, with the younger wizard, provided that Harry would open his eyes, which didn't look like it would happen in the near future; the others stood around them in a semi-circle, "I never told you that I really admire your Quidditch skills, did I? Well, I do. It's looks like you're the one flying and the broom has nothing to do with it. I surely couldn't make those sharp twists and dives. You should see McGonagall: Every time you pull a stunt like the Wronski Feint or only barely dodge the Bludgers, she clutches the banister like it was the only thing that keeps her seated. And the last time you bet Draco, he ranted about you for over two hours, but didn't notice that after a few minutes it turned into a laudation- we had a good laugh about him!", the blond's face turned to an angry and embarrassed crimson, but he relaxed slightly when Harry gave a weak chuckle, "It was really unfair of Umbridge to ban you last year, but you're allowed to play again this year, aren't you?"

Harry gave no reply, however he loosened his arms around his head and drew it back from his knees, brilliant green eyes peeking through dark lashes and black bangs.

"Harry?", Draco knelt down next to the small Gryffindor, whose eyes swivelled to meet his grey ones, "Is there anything we can do to make you feel better?", he asked, knowing that a standard question like "Are you feeling okay?" or "Is something wrong?", was completely useless and the answer to it obvious.

"Don't...", Harry caught himself, before his answer could reveal more of the nature of his little problem, "I'm fine", he pulled himself together and sat up, like nothing had happened, "Where's the toilette?"

"The second door to the left", Blaise answered, "But are you sure you are okay, Harry. What happened?"

"I'm fine", Harry laughed it off, "They just reminded me of Dudley, I'm fine", he disappeared from the room, before they could pester him with further questions.

"I don't believe him", Pansy declared, "And weren't he and Dudley thick as thieves?"

"Harry told me that Dudley used to beat him up", Draco supplied, "But that can't be the only reason, he reacted so violently."

"I've never seen anyone so frightened before", the Italian-looking boy said, "It was like he would rather die than face, whatever he was afraid of."

The others nodded in agreement, but couldn't say anything else because Harry returned from the bathroom with his head held high and his eyes expressionless.

"Hey, Harry, feeling better?", Pansy greeted him and pulled him down on the sofa between her and Draco.

"Yeah, I'm fine", Harry answered for the fourth time and freed his arm from her grip.

He had to call upon all of his self-possession not to flinch away or to break down again.

"Well, I'm glad", Pansy said, "But could you explain this to us?"

"There's nothing to explain", Harry evaded her question, "They startled me, that's all."

Draco made a sign before Pansy could become sarcastic- a sarcastic Pansy was nothing far from frightening and somehow he doubted that Harry could cope with that right now: "And what did Greg do to calm you down, Harry? We have tried everything."

Harry's cheek tinted pink, as he ducked his head: "He has a nice voice, it reminded me of Tom."

The Slytherins looked all as stunned as their upbringing allowed them to and Pansy even sighed dreamily- after all she was still a girl- when she heard of this, what she thought, cast iron proof of the beginning of the love story of the century, hell the millennium. Two mortal enemies, thrown together by fate, slowly but surely falling in love with each other and instead of trying to kill the respective other, being prepared to sacrifice their own lives for the happiness of the other, that clearly was material for one hell of a romance novel!

"Sooo...",she asked, "How are things going with everyone's favourite Dark Lord?"

"Harry has him wrapped around his little finger", Draco smirked proudly, but Harry shook his head, blushing even harder: "That's not true."

"Of course it is!", Draco argued, smirking harder, "He stopped torturing the Death Eaters because Harry doesn't like it."

"Maybe he just realised that hexing the ones who believe in him, isn't the best way to assure their loyalty", Harry interjected displeasedly.

"And he got really angry, when he found out that Bella crucioed Harry", Draco continued, ignoring the Gryffindor.

"She disobeyed his orders and he crucioed her, which totally contradicts your first point."

"He took Harry out to this water park, your family goes to sometimes", the blond said to Ted, "And he allows Harry to spent time with Severus, my dad, the Lestranges and me, although he's clearly jealous."

"He's not jealous", Harry raised his voice, "And he certainly has better things to do than to keep me company."

"Hush, Harry, Draco is telling a story", Pansy hushed him, leaning forward so that she could look around the green-eyed wizard, "Go on, Draco!"

Harry scowled darkly at them, but refrained from trying to reason with them: "Don't mind them, Harry", Blaise consoled him and dragged him over to the food stand, where Greg and Vince had once again taken stand, "They are the greatest gossips, I ever met, to try and stop them is absolutely futile. Believe me, I tried. Now, what would you like to drink? There's butterbeer, pumpkin juice, coffee, water, coke, some stuff I wouldn't advice you to drink, since Vince brought it, and punch..."

"Wait a minute", Harry looked up at him and then searched the table, "You know coke?"

"Yes", he smiled at Harry's bemused expression, "One time, when I was five or six or something like that, Dad had done something to really upset my mum. So he tried to make it up by taking us out for dinner. But he hadn't thought about it being Halloween and every Wizarding restaurant was already fully booked, so instead we went into a Muggle one. The waiter looked really weird at me, when I ordered pumpkin juice, so my dad pointed at the first beverage, he could find on the menu and that happened to be coke. Since then I've been addicted to it, so would you want some?"

Harry nodded. He had never tasted it before and as he carefully sipped the brown liquid, he thought it a bit sweet for his liking, but otherwise not bad.

"So, Harry", Greg's deep voice sounded over a bowl of cookies, which he was sharing with his muscular friend, "You like my voice? I can't say I hear this very often", he was clearly amused.

The delicate boy ducked his head again in an attempt to hide his blush, but Blaise came to his rescue: "Well, you don't give people ample opportunity to hear it, now do you? And now make room for Harry and me!"

He dragged the other dark-haired boy over to the comfortable loveseat on which the two large boys sat, considered the available space for a moment and after calculating that he would be able to squeeze between the other Slytherins, who had moved so that they half sat on the arms, plopped down and pulled Harry into his lap, who let out a startled squeak: "Harry, take a cookie!"

"Have all Slytherins this 'Old hag' qualities?", Harry griped, "I'm starting too feel like Hänsel **(1)**..."

"Ehm, Harry, sorry to tell you, but we can't make any sense of what you just said", Blaise took his own cookie.

"Sorry, it's a Muggle fairytale", Harry muttered, munching on his cookie.

"Well, we have time, tell us", Vince urged and so Harry told them about "Hänsel and Gretel".

About the time when Hänsel stuck the branch through the bars, they were joined by the others so that Harry had to summarise the beginning for them, before he could continue and then Mrs. Zabini, a short, slightly chubby woman in her late forties came to see, if they needed anything and to tell Blaise that she had just received an urgent call and had to attend to her duties as an Unspeakable.

"I think I will take my leave now", Ted yawned, getting up from the armchair on which he had sat, "It's already past midnight and Mum doesn't like it when I wake my little sisters with the Floo..."

"What?", Harry interrupted alarmed, "It's past midnight? You said Tom wanted me home before midnight, Draco! Shit!", he hastily scrambled to his feet, "I'm sorry I have to go. It was nice, thanks, Blaise", he briefly hugged the taller boy, "Good-Bye everyone, I see you at school."

"Wait, Harry", Draco called, "I'll go first, it won't help one bit if you hit your head again and black-out. And I'll tell the Dark Lord that it was my fault..."

"But it's not your fault!", the Gryffindor exclaimed, "And I'll floo directly to Tom's and my rooms", Harry pushed past him and grabbed some Floo Powder from the conveniently placed bowl on the mantel/Slytherin Castle, the trick was to say the name in Parseltongue, this way Tom could be sure that no-one else would be able to invade their quarters.

Harry vanished in a swirl of green fire: "Do you think, he will be alright?", Pansy inquired anxiously, but nobody had an answer.

Apart from the throbbing of his head, where he had knocked it against the mantel, before ungraciously falling to the floor, Harry was fine. He was more than fine actually, because Tom sat next to him on the floor and was tending to his head with gentle hands.

"I'm sorry, I'm late", Harry murmured downheartedly.

"It's okay", the Dark Lord answered generously and helped Harry to stand up, "You were only five minutes or so late."

"Are you angry that I just disappeared without telling you?", the green-eyed boy asked, still nervous.

"No, Harry", he pulled him in his arms, "I knew where you were. I'm not angry."

"Really?"

"Really. Did you have fun?", he smiled, as Harry nodded, "Are you tired?", again Harry nodded and the older man chuckled, when he saw that Harry was trying to suppress a yawn, "Well, then go get changed", he gently pushed the petite boy to the bathroom.

Voldemort had already changed into his usual pyjama bottoms, while he had waited not so patiently for Harry's return. Five minutes? Harry had been at least half an hour late and it was definitely not like he hadn't noticed it or hadn't been worried. He had been close to flooing to Zabini Mansion, when Harry came tumbling out of the fireplace and then Harry had looked so utterly dejected that he swallowed the speech he had had ample time to finalise, and instead tried to soothe the young boy.

Said boy re-emerged from the bathroom and slipped into bed next to him, snuggling into Lami, his teddy bear, and waited for Tom to put an arm around him, before he closed his eyes.

* * *

**(1) Hänsel and Gretel is a fairytale by the Brothers Grimm. I have no idea if you know it, too, or if they have other names in your country, so if it got you confused, here's a quick summary:**

**Hänsel and Gretel are brother and sister and they are abandonned by their parents, because they don't have enough money. The parents abandon them once, but Hänsel had a lot of peebles and marked the way home with it. The next time they were abandonned he didn't have any peebles and so he used his bread, but the birds ate the bread and they got lost. They finally came to a little hut in which the old hag lived, who captured them and while Gretel had to work for her, Hänsel was put in a cage and fed very well, because the old hag wanted to eat him. However the hag was blind and every time she wanted to check on the progress of fattening Hänsel he handed her a twig instead of his finger. Finally the old hag lost her patience and told Gretel to make a fire in the oven, but when the hag looked into the oven, Gretel shoved her in. Gretel freed her brother and they lived happily ever after...**

**Fairytales are rather cruel, aren't they? The poor old hag...**

* * *

**You got two stories, if you will. Don't you think I deserve a reveiw for that? Please?**


	27. The Longbottoms

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from the Harry Potter books.**

**Author's Note: Here's a super long chapter for you, over 9000 words, my longest chapter! Yuhuu! Well, anyway, I expect a ton of reviews, whether you send me an owl or just press the conveniently placed bottom below, I don't care, but I want a lot of reviews!

* * *

**

**27. THE LONGBOTTOMS**

"Neville, Merlin, what happened?", Harry exclaimed, trying to look into the other boy's tear-stained face.

He had been sitting in his study, reading through Tom's lesson plans, marking the things they had already learned, when the fireplace flared up and Neville Longbottom dropped out. This fireplace had a password only Neville, Luna, Sirius, Remus, Dudley and Simon knew and they had been told only to use it in case of an emergency. Neville certainly looked like an emergency. His broad shoulders were shaking and he was sobbing uncontrollably.

"He's dying! They say he's going to die within the week. They moved him to another room, so that he doesn't agitate the other patients", the light brown-haired Gryffindor choked out between sobs, "He doesn't eat anymore and his vital functions are getting worse. He had two heart attacks and needs help breathing. Oh Merlin, Harry, my dad is going to die!", he broke down again, burying his head in Harry's chest.

"Shh, Nev, it's okay, we'll work something out, shh, calm down. I'll help you", Harry soothed him, rubbing circles on his back.

"How?", the taller boy nearly shouted, "How can you help him? How could it ever be okay?"

"I don't know, Nev", Harry confessed, "But have I ever lied to you? We'll find a way. What exactly did the healers say?"

"That...", Neville sobbed again, "They said that he had felt guilty about what happened to Mum. Without him being an Auror they would have left us alone. And they said that he subconsciously still tries to save her and that he directs all his strength and magic towards her. That's the reason she's feeling better and when he dies... she'll be worse again..."

"Neville", Harry made him look up at him, "I think I have a way to help both your parents, but it could go terribly wrong as well..."

"I want you to try it", Neville demanded, "Whatever you have in mind, just do it, please. I don't want to lose my parents..."

"Okay", the green-eyed boy thought for a moment.

He had toyed with his idea for quite some time now, but had never acted upon it for fear of worsening the situation, however now there wasn't much more that could go awry, though he knew that should he fail, Neville would most likely hate him for the rest of his life.

"Neville, I want you to go to St. Mungo's and wait for me", Harry got up, "I'll need the help of some friends for this. Don't draw attention to yourself, I'll try to hurry."

Neville nodded understandingly and flooed back to his parents, after he had wiped away some of the tears.

Harry hastily ran to the door and pulled it open, almost hitting himself with it in the process, writing a mental list what he needed to do: Inform Tom, fetch Rudolphus and Rabastan and one more person, Severus would be good, find a pensive and then they could leave the castle. As it turned out Tom was not there, but on a trip and wouldn't return till dinner. He had written him a note, which was pinned to the door, so Harry decided he should write a note, too.

_I have to help a friend. Please, don't be angry. Harry_

It certainly wasn't one of his masterpieces, but it would have to do. Tom would be pissed that he once again didn't know what exactly Harry was doing, but to explain it would take too long. He pinned it into the wood instead of the other paper and made his way to Rabastan's room which was nearest.

"I need your help!", Harry blurted out as soon as the brown-haired man opened the door and looked him in the eye, "Will you help me?"

"Of course", Rabastan was relieved Harry was again talking to him; the last few days Harry had avoided them at all costs and had cancelled their training sessions- not that he blamed him, "What should I do?"

"Not now, I'll tell you later", Harry grabbed his sleeve, "Do you have a pensive?"

"Rudolphus should have one", the older wizard supplied and followed the skinny youth.

About the same happened at Rudolphus' room only that they had to wait a moment for him to fetch his pensive and then they were off to Severus' rooms.

"Harry?", the Potion's Master called surprisedly, when he saw the Gryffindor standing in front of his door, drawing his attention from the Wound-Closing-Potion he had been making for the infirmary, "Is something the matter?"

"Yes, Severus, I'm sorry, I interrupted you, but I need your help, please?", Harry begged, eliciting a sigh from the thin man.

"Fine, let me just stabilise the potion", he disappeared in his lab for a moment, before he came out again, noting for the first time the two Lestrange brothers, "And what should I do now?"

"I need you all to apparate to Magnolia Crescent, number 11, Little Whinging, Surrey", Harry explained, when they reached the entrance hall, "And please, try to appear outside of the house. Can I apparate with you, Severus?"

They all nodded obediently and Harry moved his arms around the Potion Master's waist, closing his eyes. Seconds later, the entrance hall was deserted and the four wizards landed in a Muggle neighbourhood, that looked like the inhabitant's only concern was the inpeccability of their lawns. The house they stood in front of though showed some minimal differences: instead of the obligatory white fence it was bordered by a low hedgerow, the lawn had the audacity to sport some daisies and instead of a car in the driveway stood a wood table and matching benches, shadowed by a sunshade. Harry determinedly walked to the front door and rang the bell, the three older wizard following apprehensively.

Their attitude seemed to be justified, in their opinion, when a tall, raw-boned man tore the door open and glared down at Harry, growling: "What?", making Harry lean back a little.

However, as soon as he recognised the boy-who-lived, his face transformed into a more benign grimace and his voice softened: "Harry!", he greeted pleasantly, "Did you want something from me?"

"No, Sir", Harry smiled up at him, "I need the help of your wife and your son."

"Well, that's good, do come in", he opened the door wider and let them all enter, "Sarah is at the hairdresser at the moment, though, thank God she told me, I wouldn't see the difference otherwise. And Simon is giving a tutorial to that football player, but he should be back in ten minutes or so. You're lucky, it's just the half-time break or I wouldn't have opened the door. Our neighbours are driving me insane, I don't know what Sarah told them about me, but they are all under the impression, they should socialise me. Anyway, I have to go, make yourself at home, there should be a rest of lasagne in the refrigerator", with that he vanished into the living room, from where you could hear the television.

"Harry, could you please explain what we are doing here?", Severus asked grumpily, the name Simon had triggered something in him, but he couldn't hit on where he had heard it before.

"Later", Harry said, sauntering over to the kitchen and looked through the fridge, "Once they are here, I'll tell you, I don't want to explain everything twice."

And so they waited, Harry looking out of the window, waiting for Simon and Sarah to arrive and Rudolphus, Rabastan and Severus sitting around the small kitchen table, feeling very out of place.

"Finally!", Harry sighed relievedly, when he sighted the familiar brown-haired and lanky form of his best friend on his bike and the steadily approaching motherly figure with wide hips, coming from the opposite side.

"Harry", Simon exclaimed happily, drawing the small body into his arms, and Severus recognised him as the empath, "What are you doing here? Why are you so worried?"

"Harry, dear", the gentle voice of Sarah Turner greeted from the doorway, "It's been a long time, since I last saw you. What can we do for you? And who are your friends?"

Mrs. Turner had a round, little face with astute blue eyes and her son's wavy brown hair and a ready smile playing with her lips.

"Oh, sorry, they're Severus Snape and Rudolphus and Rabastan Lestrange", he introduced them pointed at each of them in turn, "And I need your help."

"Of course, Harry, you know we'll help you, if it's possible", Sarah smiled reassuringly, "Why don't you tell us what you're planning."

"Could one of you put the memory of the night you tortured the Longbottoms into the pensive, please?", Harry asked the Lestranges, sitting down for the first time, and made the two empaths gasp.

"You really want to do this now, Harry?", Simon asked concerned, "You know how dangerous it is!"

"I have to!", Harry replied fiercely, "Neville's dad is dying, because he feels so guilty! I have to do something!"

"Harry, we already talked about it", the female empath tried to reason, "The risk is too high, for both you and the Longbottoms. I'm afraid, I can't allow it."

"But I know that I can do it!", Harry pleaded, "Please, I have to help him. If you really think that I am not capable of doing it, tell me and I won't, but..."

"Harry, we're just worried about you...", Sarah tried to comfort him.

"Do you think I can manage it or not?"

Mother and son exchanged a long look, before sighing deeply: "Yes, Harry, we think you could most likely make it, but...", the female Muggle answered.

"Nothing, but", Harry interrupted her, "I'll try it with or without your help. I already promised it to Neville."

"We'll help you, Harry", Simon suspired and received a rapturous hug in thank you, "I guess that time is short, right? So then we should start right now."

"Yes, but Simon, if anything should go wrong, it's up to you on what you tell Tom, okay?", Harry looked at him, "You may reveal my secrets, if you deem it necessary, no-one else."

"Wait, the Dark Lord doesn't know that we're here to do... whatever, you plan to do?", Severus spoke up alarmed, "You do remember how he reacted last time something like this happened, don't you?"

"That was different", the small boy shrugged his shoulders, "And I wrote him a note. It's hardly my fault that he wasn't there."

"And what exactly are you planning to do?", the Potion's Master wasn't appeased by the answer.

"We're trying to help Frank Longbottom, before he dies", Harry answered shortly and took Simon's hand, "You ready?"

He waited, until Sarah was holding onto Simon's other hand, before he touched the swirling milky substance of Rudolphus' memories of the night the Longbottoms lost their mind.

_The three people had landed outside of a modest looking cottage, in front of a large bay window and next to four shadowed and cloaked figures. Icy wind whipped through the branches of a near-by tree, making it difficult to understand the conversation. Harry thought the weather and setting was truly fitting for what was to happened, even more so when the rain intensified and lighting struck the earth not a hundred meters away._

_"What are we waiting for?", Bartemius Crouch jr. hissed and his baby-blue eyes left their watch over the Longbottoms' living room for a moment, "We have to find our Master!", even the distress and tiredness couldn't mar his young and handsome face._

_"We're waiting that those two idiots pluck up their loyalty", Bellatrix Lestrange sneered, she, too, though she was the epitome of beauty made Harry's hair stand with the coldness in her voice._

_"This is not about loyalty, Bella", Rudolphus' or Rabastan's calm voice spoke up, it was to dark and loud to differentiate between the two, though Harry thought it was the older brother, "But I'm not about to risk my ass, if you're not sure that they know something. I think, we would have a better chance of finding the Dark Lord, if we checked out the different hiding spots."_

_"I know that Longbottom knows of our Lord's whereabouts!", the witch screamed furiously, "He's head-Auror, he searched Godric's Hollow and he's chummy with that Muggle-loving old fool..."_

_"Fine", one of the Lestranges conceded anticipatorily, the other nodding, "But we'll make this quick, if he doesn't know something valuable, we'll leave."_

_Harry was sure that Bellatrix was smirking, though he had no means to make it out in the darkness and in the split second they needed to train their wands at the window and to blow it into shambles. After so much noise the semi-silence that followed was almost deafening and the crunch, as someone's boot walked over a piece of glass, resounded through the quiet house. _

Harry, Sarah and Simon followed the Death Eaters through the bare window frame the black-haired boy clutching Simon's ice cold hand in his. They would have to watch what happened to the very end, there was no turning back now.

_"I'm sure it's nothing, Alice", a subdued voice called from upstairs and although Harry had never heard his voice, he immediately recognised it as Frank Longbottom's, because it sounded so much like his son's, when Neville for once wasn't stuttering and confident in what he was saying, namely when he talked about plants, "There's quite the storm out there, maybe one of the windows gave out", after this statement, the stairs could be heard creaking and a tall figure appeared at the top of the stairs, the flickering light of a single wand made the shadows dance._

_Harry looked around himself, noticing the four Death Eater had left their place. Before he could start to wonder where they had gone to, Frank reached the bottom of the stairs and Rudolphus' wand pressed against the nape of his neck._

_"Not one word, understood, Longbottom?", he hissed, as Rabastan disarmed him; Bellatrix had disappeared up the stairs._

_The two brothers didn't wait to see, if he would heed their order and the younger of them silenced him with a spell and then turned to repair the window with a flick of his wand. The volume ceased immediately and you could hear the noises of a struggle happening upstairs, before Bellatrix and Crouch jr. came back down with a bound and gagged Alice Longbottom, whose round face was as white as a sheet._

_"Their little brat isn't here", the black-haired witch sneered, pushing the other woman down the last few steps, making her stumble._

_"I don't care", Rudolphus said and ended the Silencing Spell on Frank, "Longbottom, if you're co-operative, we'll be gone in a few minutes and you can go back to sleep and pretend, this was just a nightmare. Where is the Dark Lord?"_

_"He was defeated by Harry Potter", Frank replied evenly, "No-one knows, if he's still alive."_

_"Liar!", Bellatrix screamed furiously, "How could a baby possibly defeat the most powerful wizard to ever walk the earth? Crucio!"_

_"Stop it", Rabastan pushed her arm up, so that the Unforgivable hit the ceiling, "Your anger won't bring us anywhere."_

_"Shut up, whelp!", she hissed dangerously, "Let me do this my way!"_

_"No", Rabastan insisted and extracted a potion's vial from his robes with a clear, crystal liquid, "Veritaserum. We'll test him with it and if he doesn't know it, we go and proceed after **our** plan."_

_He kneeled down next to the married couple and dribbled some of the potion into Frank's willingly opened mouth. It was not like he had any secrets he could reveal. Most of the information was under Dumbledore's Fidelius Charm and not even Veritaserum could force him to reveal them. And concerning Voldemort's hideout, well, no-one knew, not even Dumbledore, so they could ask him that question for all he cared._

_"What is your name?", the older Lestrange brother asked to make sure the potion was working correctly._

_"Frank Fenimore Longbottom", the Auror answered in a monotone voice, his eyes had glassed over._

_"Do you know the Dark Lord's whereabouts?", he asked again._

_"No", he had expected no other response, damn his wife for dragging him here!_

_"Do you know anyone who knows where he is?", he demanded, hoping against all hopes that maybe their trip here, hadn't been completely fruitless, but once again he was disappointed: "No, no-one knows."_

_"He's lying", Bella screamed and once again shot a Crucio at the Auror, only to be once again intercepted by Rabastan, however instead of just screaming at him, she now pointed her wand at him and smacked him into the next wall with the ease someone would throw a newspaper after a fly._

_Rudolphus had his wand out in a second, though his wife only snarled at him: "I wouldn't do anything, oh husband of mine, or I snap your dear brother's spine. Let _me_ question them and if you're a good boy, Barty will let your brother live."_

_The brown-haired man swirled around in horror to find his brother motionless, but with open eyes, dangling in the air, held by Crouch's wand, who had a mad grin on his face and had another wand, likely his brother's trained on Rabastan's back._

_"I'm glad you see it my way", mocked the witch, "You will take him and I'll try to loosed her tongue, such a sweet couple they are, don't you think? I'm sure they share their secrets."_

_"No, don't do this", Frank gasped horrified, the Veritaserum having lost its effect, "Alice doesn't know anything. I'll tell you everything. Voldemort hides out in Moldavia. He's weak after the Killing Curse rebounded from Harry, so tomorrow the whole Auror department will portkey to the corresponding Moldavian office and join forces with them. I already brought my son to my mother so that she can look after him, while I'm away. Alice will floo over there in the morning..."_

_"Great, see, Bella", Rudolphus knew that Frank was lying, but he would rather spend the night searching through Moldavia than torture those two- they had a son for Merlin's sake, "Now, we know everything we wanted to know. Let's go there right now, before someone else finds him..."_

_"Shut up, Lestrange!", she hissed, "Don't take me for a fool. He just made this up. And now you better use your mouth for something useful before you're brother meets Merlin."_

_He exchanged a look with his brother. He hated himself for doing it, but blood was thicker than water, though that didn't really fit here, and he was a Slytherin. He pulled Frank to his feet and dragged him over into a corner, where his wife hopefully wouldn't have to witness how he tortured her husband, though she would most likely be worse off. Before he even reached his destination, a shrill pain-filled scream reverberated through the living room and the Auror froze in midstep, intend to run back to his wife._

_"No", he whispered into his ear, "I won't help you, but it will only be worse if you fight- for both of you. If you know anything, tell me and make it believable this time and I promise we'll leave immediately, but otherwise I can't help you."_

_"I don't know anything", Frank was pushed into the corner and, peering through the Death Eater's legs, caught a glimpse of his beloved Alice, who was clawing into her own flesh in an attempt to lessen the pain._

_"I know", was the last thing he heard for a long time, that was filled with Alice's pleas and his own screams._

Harry and the two empaths watched horrified as Alice and Frank Longbottom lost their sanity.

_At first Frank only whimpered, whenever Rudolphus started anew, but soon his pain became more audible. Rudolphus only used the Cruciatus curse, but Bellatrix was more imaginative. Alice started screaming after the first two minutes and begging after ten, but the worst was, when she went silent about two hours into the torture. She lost consciousness several times, however Bellatrix didn't allow her that small reprieve and revived her, even going so far as to heal her, just to reopen the wounds again and again. After five hours, Alice Longbottom was as good as dead, her body was beaten so badly, that on first sight she looked like a red Mars man, until the horrible realisation hit you that it was blood. But what hit Harry the hardest, what he absolutely couldn't understand, was the glee on both Bellatrix' and Crouch's face, who had watched every thing with rapt attention and made sure that Rabastan had to see it, too. The nineteen year-old looked sick._

_"Well, looks like your little wife gave out, Longbottom", she walked over to where Rudolphus stood over the sagged form of Frank, "My dear husband was too lenient with you, it seems. Anything you want to tell me?"_

_Frank didn't turn his head, when he tried to talk a splash of blood came forward instead. He had stopped screaming about an hour ago._

_"Can't do anything right, can you?", Bellatrix sneered at her brown-eyed husband, "Go check the house for any information!"_

_He did as told, both for anxiety for his brother and the fact that he was used to obeying her. She had always been above him in the Dark Lord's hierarchy, she had been in fact his third-in-command, after Lucius. Sometimes he had hated the Dark Lord for this, Bellatrix was brilliant in her own way, but ruthless and unscrupulous and she loved to make others feel like dirt. He didn't find anything and when he returned Frank looked about as bad as his wife and gave no reaction when spoken to._

_"Well, looks like they didn't know anything", Bellatrix greeted him and he would have loved to give her a taste of her own medicine, "Let's go."_

_Crouch released his brother from his hold and he had to catch him, before Rabastan could do something rash. He drew his wand with the intention to put them out of their misery, but Bellatrix stopped him._

_"They'll serve those fools as a warning", she smiled cruelly, "Go, we wouldn't want something to happen to either of you, now would we?", she had her wand pointed at him, before he could react._

_And so all of them left._

They dropped on the clean kitchen floor of 11, Magnolia Crescent. Sarah's eyes were red and her hands shook, when she embraced her son. Simon was deathly pale and big tears were rolling down his cheeks. But that was nothing compared to the state Harry was in: the small boy shook violently and his eyes were overflowing with tears and he sobbed so hard, as he rocked back and forth.

"Chris!", the female empath called for her husband and pushed Severus out of the way, who had kneeled down next to the heap that was Harry.

"What is it, Sarah?", the Muggle's voice sounded annoyed, "I'm missing the last minutes of the game...", he trailed off, as he took in the situation in his kitchen, "What can I do?"

"Fetch an icepack for Harry and a handkerchief for Simon", she ordered, "And then make some tea."

It was proof of how often he had been in a similar circumstance, that he didn't question his wife's words, but acted immediately.

"Simon, can you touch him?", she asked her son gently, who shook his head, "Worse or better?"

"He doesn't react to anything", Simon sniffed, "My God, what should we do."

"Wait", his mother answered, she hugged him again, "Harry'll just need time."

"What happened, what is going on?", only the many years as a teacher kept Severus from using swearwords.

"Harry has to come to grips with what we saw", Simon answered after a while.

"Shit", Harry jumped up suddenly and rushed to the sink, "I'm going to be sick."

Chris quickly made room and offered Harry a glass of cool water, when he was finished: "Thanks."

"Harry, are you okay?", Simon asked his best-friend concernedly, "Why have you shut me out?"

"I'm okay", Harry snuggled into the other boy's chest, "I thought you had enough problems with your own emotions. We need to look at the other one, too."

"Maybe, we should wait...", Simon suggested timidly.

"No, that wouldn't make it any better", Harry answered, "Rabastan could you...", he had turned around to face the two brothers to find the older one crying, "Merlin, what is wrong, Rudolphus, shh, don't cry, tell me what's wrong."

"I... I tortured Longbottom. I'm a monster, I should have died in Azkaban", Rudolphus buried his face in his large hands, but Harry pulled them away.

"Look at me", Harry demanded from his place at his feet, "You. Are. No. Monster. What you did was very brave. Don't laugh. You saved your brother. Do you think, Rabastan would still be alive without you? You did what you had to do in order to save both of you. Don't blame yourself for it. Please? I'm so glad I have you two. Don't cry anymore."

"Even after what we did to you?", Rudolphus looked unsure.

"Even after what you did", Harry agreed, "You more than made up for it. And if my plan works you can make it up to the Longbottoms as well", he hugged both of them, "Never blame yourself for this. I'm so proud of you."

"Can we do anything to help you through the second memory?", Rabastan asked, but Harry shook his head: "Just wait here."

The two empaths and Harry each drank a cup of tea, Harry sitting in Rudolphus' lap, while Rabastan moved his own memories of the night into the pensive and then once again travelled into the past, while the four others- Chris was playing host, since his game had already ended and he needed something to take off his mind from the fact that his team had lost and that his wife and son were doing one of their weird empath things with Harry- were twirling thumbs or their wands or the tea cups in their hands. When they finally returned the earlier occurrence repeated itself, completely with sobbing, throwing up and hugging.

"So what happens now?", Rabastan asked Harry, who sat in his lap and sipped his second cup of Earl Grey.

"We have to go to St. Mungo's", Harry explained, "Can you apparate there?"

Severus nodded: "Good, then let's go."

Harry stayed with Rabastan, during the apparation, Sarah went with Severus and Simon with Rudolphus. It was already late afternoon, as they arrived and most of the visitors had already left to go back to their family members and friends who weren't in hospital, and the nurses were preparing the patients for the night or the last check-up.

"Harry!", Neville jumped up from the seat, he had previously occupied, his face had dried tear-stains on them, "I thought you wouldn't come anymore."

"Keep it down", Harry murmured and hugged the other Gryffindor, "We're here now. Where's your father?"

"In his room", Neville gulped, "The healer already checked on him so... What exactly is your plan?"

"I never thought I would say this, but it's an excellent question, Mr. Longbottom", Snape said, drawing Neville's attention on him for the first time.

"Pro... Professor Snape, what are you doing here?", the blond boy stuttered, he then noticed the Lestranges and the two empaths, "Harry, who are all those people."

"Friends, Nev, they'll help us", Harry patted his shoulder, "And if you don't mind, I would rather start now than explain it to you. It would make it easier. But if you want, I'll explain it now."

"No, Harry", Neville looked rather tired, "I just want my dad to live, how you do it, doesn't really matter."

"Good, lead the way, will you?"

They all followed Neville as inconspicuously as possible to one of the rooms in the "hopeless case" section, though the three Muggle-raiseds were shocked by the bluntness of this term. Mr. Longbottom's room held no private objects whatsoever, unlike the room in the closed ward, and he was the only one there- most likely they didn't want to upset anyone, when he would peg out. His once tall, trained body had lost a lot of weight and the healthy colour of his skin had changed into a papery and chapped substance. His cheeks were hollow and he missed whole tufts of hair.

"You'll all stay outside of this room and look to it that absolutely no-one disturbs us, okay?", Harry ordered, "Severus could you maybe search for a very mild sleeping potion?", the Potion's Master nodded, "Neville, I tell you once again that I can't promise you that what we're going to try will actually work. Are you sure you want it?", Neville only nodded and Harry gave each of them a hug, Neville's lasting the longest, before he disappeared into the sickroom.

Sarah followed immediately, but Simon stayed for a moment longer: "I suppose you don't know or understand, but Harry is risking his life for your father's and if you dare to blame him, should your father die, you'll find that I'm a much better friend than you. Is that clear? Great!", he followed the two others and closed the door behind him.

"The Dark Lord will not be pleased, when he finds this out", Rabastan muttered, while the three adult wizard performed several locking and distraction spells around the general area.

"It's a bit late now for this realisation, don't you think?", Severus answered mockingly, "I just hope Harry will be alright and can handle the Dark Lord's anger on his own", he mentally scratched the last part of the sentence- he hoped Harry would be alright, full stop.

"Never thought that empath had it in him", Rudolphus changed the subject and put a we-just-cleaned-this-corridor-of-all-hairs-feathers-and-fallen-off-limps-so-find-another-way-sign in the middle of the corridor.

"Wait a minute, empath?", Neville, who had sunk to the floor, spoke up, "Who the hell are you people?"

"Language, Mr. Longbottom", sneered Severus.

"I can talk however I please", Neville shouted back, before he clapped his hands over his mouth, looking horrified, "Sir."

"Well, it was about time, you discovered some of that famed Gryffindor courage- however misplaced it is", the professor returned, "I'll be looking for that potion, not that hospital potions are any good...", he swept around the corner, his robes billowing behind him.

"Mr. Longbottom, why don't you take a seat", Rudolphus motioned to one of the sofa's he had conjured up, "My brother and I owe you an apology."

A good two hours later- Rudolphus was sporting a black eye, Rabastan a split lip and bruised jaw, Neville a once again clean and nervous face and Severus had returned with the potion- the eerie silence, that hand hung over the sickroom and the corridor like a thick black cloud, was broken by a coarse voice out of all recognition: "James, there were Death Eaters at our house... Where's Alice? Are she and Neville alright...", the words were strangely pronounced and distorted.

"Shh, be silent, go easy on your vocal cords", Harry's voice floated through the door, moments before Sarah pulled the door open: "That potion would be very much appreciated right now", she looked exhausted, but pleased.

Severus handed over the potion to her and she disappeared once more.

"Drink this", Harry ordered, "It will help you. Your son and wife are save."

Rudolphus got a glimpse of Harry and his two empaths, standing around the bed, in which a still gaunt-looking, but coherent Frank Longbottom lay. Harry and Simon propped him up a little so that he could better swallow the sleeping draught.

"I thought you were dead, James", Frank muttered, before he drifted of to sleep.

Harry slumped over and only Simon's quick reflexes kept him from hitting his head on the metallic bed-post: "Mum?", he cried alarmed, "Harry fainted!", Mrs. Turner quickly walked over to her son and the black-haired youth.

"Didn't faint", said boy murmured drowsily, "'M fine, just hold me."

Simon chuckled relievedly and carefully carried the smaller boy out of the room and bedded him on the larger sofa, where the three adults had previously sat.

"Did it work?", Neville asked anxiously.

"It was a complete success", Sarah smiled reassuringly at him, "Your father is on the mend. It will certainly take him a while to get used to the new situation- after all he more or less lost fifteen years of his life- but I'm positive he'll make a full recovery."

"Can you help my mum, too?", Neville asked eagerly.

"I'm not sure. What Harry did was quite dangerous and it exhausted him", Sarah answered, before Harry could say anything, "You have to be patient and didn't you say that your mum was getting better on her own, maybe it will be better for her to heal the natural way."

"But if you have the means to save her, why don't you do it?", Neville said reproachfully, "Harry, please, I finally want to know how it is to have parents."

"Show some gratitude, will you?", Simon said dangerously, "Harry did more than enough for you!"

"I can speak for myself, Simon", Harry admonished, blinking his eyes open, "And I told you that it was easier than I thought. I feel good and I'd rather have it all done. You heard Mr. Longbottom his first concern was for his wife, if we are very unlucky, he might even relapse, if he finds out that she's still in need of medical help. Please, let me do this, I feel much better than you thought I would be. I don't want to start again later and have to do this all over again..."

The two empaths exchanged a look: "Okay, Harry. But we'll take an hour break", Sarah said sternly and Harry sent her an over-exuberant smile and thank you, before closing his eyes again.

"And how exactly do you suppose, we do this?", Severus asked scathingly, "Alice Longbottom is in the closed ward, I think the chances are slim that they just let three known Death Eaters walk in there to supposedly heal her, what they have tried unsuccessful for more than a decade, I might add."

"I tell them that Harry helped my father", Neville said softly, "The head-healer knows me and when they see how much better dad is doing, they will allow it. It's not like they have a better idea."

"It seems that they already know", Rabastan remarked and pointed at the three medi-wizards and the nurse that quickly stalked towards them.

"Is there a way you could make Harry look less like himself?", Simon asked the four wizards.

"There are a few simple charms", Rudolphus kneeled down next to the dozing boy and gentle tipped his hair which turned into a light brown like the Turners'.

He finished just in time and when the four employees of the hospital stood in front of them, Harry looked like Simon's younger brother, with his brown hair, dark blue eyes, a broader jaw and heavier eyebrows.

"What is the meaning of this?", shouted the enraged wizard with greying auburn hair, who stood in the middle and seemed to be in charge, "You have no business to be here!"

"How do you do? I'm Sarah Turner and who might you be?", the motherly woman said pleasantly and smiled at the wizard.

"Aron McHail", the wizard said grumpily, but for the most part pacified, since his mother had been very strict about treating all women with respect, "Could you now possibly explain to me, why you have warded this corridor and why there was a drastic surge of magic in the whole hospital, Madam."

"Perhaps, you would like to take a seat?", she offered kindly, but with persistence.

"What are three known Death Eaters doing here in front of Mr. Longbottom's room", one of the other healers, a short black-skinned wizard with nimble hands, who Neville recognised as the head of the closed ward, intervened, "Came to finish him off, did you?"

"Mr. ...", she paused expectantly for him to supply a dry Inri, "Mr. Inri, behave yourself. If you would have taken a seat like I suggested earlier, you would already have all your answers", she said reproachfully, whereupon Dr. Inri, too, took a seat.

"Thank you, as I mentioned before, I'm Sarah and those are my sons Simon and Henry. We came here in the hopes of helping Mr. Longbottom, whose son we have known now for quite some time..."

"As honourable as your motives might be, there's no chance for Mr. Longbottom to make even a slight recovery", interrupted Healer McHail, "And you still haven't explained the presence of Professor Snape and the Lestrange brothers. You do know that the later two are the cause of Mr. And Mrs. Longbottom's state and should rightfully be in Azkaban, don't you?"

"Perhaps, it would help you in your conclusions, if you put into consideration that empathy runs strong in the blood of my family", Sarah continued calmly, making the medi-wizards and nurse gape at her, "Thanks to Professor Snape we put Mr. Longbottom into a potion-induced sleep, after we had helped his mind back on the right course. I'm no professional doctor, but I'm pretty sure, he did indeed make a full recovery. We were just debating, whether it was within our strength to try to help his wife as well."

"Mrs. Turner, this is a lot to take in at once, also considering that we had no success in his treatment and the fact that it happens seldom that three people claim to be empaths", the head-healer chose his words carefully, "But granted that what you said is true, would it be possible for us to check on Mr. Longbottom?"

"Of course, Doctor", she smiled gently at him, "But although I must admit that I have no previous experience in this kind of treatment either, I think it would be advisable, if as few people as possible examined him at a time. And since we agreed to try to help Mrs. Longbottom as soon as possible, of course only with your permission, I think it would be best not to wake him just yet."

The healers nodded their heads in unison, before Medi-Wizards McHail and Inri disappeared in the room while the other two alternated between curiously staring at the people still outside and impatiently staring at the door, as if it gave a running commentary of what went on behind it.

"It's miracle", Healer Inri muttered over and over again, checking the vitals he had just taken.

"Mr. Longbottom seems to have made full mental recovery and his body works intently on re-establishing his health", the other medi-wizard voiced, slightly more composed, "Mrs. Turner, are you really an empath?"

"Yes, Doctor, I believe I already said so, didn't I?", she answered good-humouredly, "Can I take this as the permission to repeat the process on Mrs. Longbottom? We would like to do it as soon as possible, since Henry should go to bed soon."

"Hey", Harry pouted indignantly, "I'm no toddler, you know?"

"Sure, deary", she ruffled his hair that was still as unruly as ever, which made him pout even more.

"I will prepare for her to be brought down immediately", Inri assured them and motioned for the nurse to follow him, but Harry's voice stopped him: "If you would please wait a second, Doctor?", Rudolphus and Rabastan had stood as well and now were blocking their way, "I have a request. Can you give me an oath to keep our names and our involvement in this quiet?"

"I have my medical confidentiality, Henry", he said a bit condescendingly, as if Harry had asked a very stupid question.

"I had no way to tell that the laws that work in our world also are in force in your world", Harry corrected him gently, "You may be able to relate to me being sceptical of people who insult friends of mine- I doubt very much that Death Eater is an amicable term. And even if I wouldn't feel like this, the empaths have no need to be swarmed by calls for help, just like you keep your world a secret from us, because you fear that otherwise non-magical folks would try to use your abilities for their advantage. There's a good reason why you think us extinct, while that's not the case. "

"Either you give Henry a Wizard's Oath that you will keep this quiet or we'll have no qualms to obliviate all of you", Rabastan informed them and swirled his wand between his fingers.

"But...", Inri sputtered, searching for words.

"The request is quite reasonable", McHail intervened, giving Harry a smile, "I swear upon my magic to keep the identities of Sarah, Simon and Henry Turner to myself and to not relate any information, I might obtain, to the public."

The young medi-witch, who had stood quiet up until now, also gave an oath as did the nurse and finally and a very reluctantly Inri did as well and was allowed to fetch Neville's mum.

"Thank you", Harry smiled gratefully at the two older men, who slowly pocketed their wands; he swayed a little, which prompted Rudolphus to manoeuvre him back to the sofa, where he seated him between himself and the male empath.

"You're welcome", they chorused making Harry smile even harder, "Is there anything we can do for you? Food, beverage, just name it..."

"No, thank you", Harry curled up between them, his head on Rudolphus' thigh and his feet on Simon's.

"Mr. Turner,", Rabastan asked calmly, "Would you mind explaining to us what exactly you did in that room?"

"It's just Simon", the empath said; his mother had accompanied Healer McHail back into Mr. Longbottom's room, "And although I don't agree with Harry's decision to keep so many secrets, I won't tell you, unless it should turn out absolutely necessary and what we did is completely impossible to understand without knowing Harry's secret, so I won't tell you."

"So you know all of Harry's secrets?", Severus butted in interestedly.

"No", Simon smiled, "It's Harry's theory: If you don't give anyone the right to know everything about you, you'll always be able to pull something out of your sleeve, should your supposed friend decide to stab you in the back. I assume that I know more of his secrets than anyone else, though..."

"You do", Harry muttered, kicking against his leg, "Stop talking about me or I'll tell your mum what you hide under your bed..."

"You can count yourself lucky that I know you're joking or I would have to assure your reticence another way", Simon bickered back.

"I think I'll give you back", Harry whined adorably with a look that screamed "Ain't I just cute?", "As an older brother you should be much nicer to me..."

"That suits me just fine", Simon returned offhandedly, "You're not the best little brother, either, you ought to adore me, admire me, look up to me and do everything I say..."

"Simon, stop being rude to your brother", Sarah interrupted them from the doorway and Harry smiled triumphantly, until the empath continued, "And Henry, why aren't you resting? I won't have you collapse on me."

"I was", Harry pouted, "I'm fine really."

"Well, then you can start to prepare for Mrs. Longbottom, she'll be down in about three minutes", she ushered the two boys back into the room next to Mr. Longbottom's, "Is it possible to procure another one of those Sleeping Potions, it seems to have worked perfectly for Mr. Longbottom."

"So my dad is really okay now?", Neville asked pleadingly and both the empath and the two healers nodded, "Oh, thank you."

At that moment Inri and the nurse returned, the latter guiding a mildly confused-looking Alice Longbottom by the hand.

"You can thank us, if everything goes well a second time", Sarah replied and led her patient with an expert ease into the room closing the door behind her. The three Death Eater started to weave Warding Spells around the room once more.

The hours seemed to creep by for the people, waiting outside the room, and only the Death Eater's great self-restraint and Healer McHail's and Severus' combined efforts kept the situation from escalating. Eventually: A scream, a thud, an open door. Sarah looked distraught, as she requested the potion, but assured them that Mrs. Longbottom, was just fine, if a bit hysterical. She closed the door again and a few seconds later silence once again reigned over the room. The other empath opened the door, looking like the world was about to explode and he was about to decide which five people would survive the catastrophe.

His eyes wandered over all of them, finally resting on Severus: "You're an Occlumens aren't you, Professor? Then put up your strongest shields, absolutely nothing may leak through, understood?", Severus nodded obediently and started to clear his mind, "Can you do this beaming-thingy to this house, you're staying at?", Simon asked the two brothers, who nodded, "Henry isn't doing good, we need to get him out of here as soon as possible. Can you bring my Mum and me to that house, too?"

"I'm ready", Severus murmured lowly his eyes empty of all emotion, "But I can't apparate him directly out of this room, we have to bring him to the visitor's entrance beforehand."

"If there's no other way, we have to risk it", Sarah said from behind him, "Take of the charms around him, if they haven't faded already and try to reappear at the most deserted area possible and then move away from him immediately."

The three Death Eaters exchanged a look: "His study", Rudolphus suggested, "But we'll need the password."

"It's 'white lies'", Simon answered urgently, "We have to go."

"Good, Mrs. Turner, I'll apparate you", Rudolphus took charge, "And Simon will go with Rabastan. Let's go!"

They quickly walked to the visitor's entrance where they had arrived in the first place, forcing the healers and the nurse to leave with them, pushing them into a corridor and blocking it so that they had to go a long way round to get back to the Longbottoms, and got ready to apparate. It didn't take long, before Severus came sprinting towards them (in other circumstances this picture would have been dubbed hilarious and photography proof would have made Colin Creevey a rich man) with a small bundle in his arms.

They all disappeared at the same time, the loud crack startling one of the house-elves who was cleaning the plexiglass around the reception desk.

Severus had been shocked, when he had walked into Mrs. Longbottom's room, who looked just fine by the way. Harry was slumped on the floor. Why the two empaths hadn't put him into a more comfortable position was explained, when Harry flinched and whimpered, as soon as he entered, getting worse with every step he took. The glamour had worn off, showing Harry's pale face contorted in pain and anguish. He quickly gathered the small boy in his arms and ran towards the apparation point, realising that time was short and trusting the two empaths to know what was best in such a situation. Once in the castle he gently put the small boy down on the nearest black loveseat and left the room with the Lestranges.

"I think it's time we inform the Dark Lord of the situation", Rabastan voiced, after they had all processed what they had seen of Harry.

"What do you want to tell me?", Voldemort stalked towards them, "Maybe you would like to explain to me, where you were all day and whom Harry thought he had to save this time?", he glared down at them.

"We were with Harry", Severus answered calmly, "Who somehow managed to cure the Longbottoms but got sick, after they were finished. That empath-friend of Harry's and his mother are in the study with him and try to help him", Tom made to open the door, but the Potion's Master stopped him with his next words, "The empaths sent us out. Neither of us knows what they did, but Harry looked really bad and it only got worse, as I apparated him here, perhaps it would be better, if we stayed outside, until they call for help."

"So you don't even know what went wrong?", Voldemort glared at them, but it was more the fact that they hadn't looked out for Harry than that now he had no idea what was wrong with Harry, "Rabastan, go fetch Black and Lupin. And Rudolphus, find the Malfoys and bring them here."

They nodded and set off. Once again Severus had to wait and although the company wasn't as fidgety as Longbottom jr. had been. it wasn't any less uncomfortable. Harry's study wasn't sound-prove and so they heard a whimper or a sob and once even a terrified scream mixed with the constant murmur of low voices through the door. Sirius and Remus were the first to arrive, both looking worried but surprisingly not angry, like Severus had come to associate with the Black heir. Half a minute later Rudolphus returned with the Malfoys and they continued waiting.

Half an hour or so later Simon and Sarah squeezed through the narrow gap between the door frame and the door: "You can go in", Simon said to Sirius, who almost stormed into the room, leaving it slightly ajar, "No, only Mr. Black", Simon closed the door, before Voldemort could follow the Animagus, "I'll explain everything, just give us five minutes."

The two empaths linked their hands and turned their backs on the wizards, closing their eyes. Soon light blue rays emanated from them and wove a tight net over the door and the surrounding area.

"Good feelings", Simon said by way of explanation, before he faced them again and slid down to the floor, getting more comfortable, "I guess you all know by now that we tried to help the Longbottoms and you all know that Mum and I are empaths. To make it short Harry is one, too", he continued, ignoring the stunned looks he received.

"But he said he couldn't feel what the Dark Lord feels, when his scar hurts", Severus interrupted.

"He didn't exactly lie", Simon answered, "Empaths don't **feel**other's feelings. If someone around me is angry, I don't feel angry as well, I only can tell **that**the person is angry. It's more like a code, influenced by the empath's respective experiences, like for example if there's love, I feel secure ..."

"While I feel happy and reassured", Sarah supplied.

"Oh, sweet Merlin, so you more or less not only saw what we did to the Longbottoms, but also felt all of our feelings?", Rabastan asked horrified.

"We didn't, Harry did", Simon sighed, "A normal empath can't perceive what others feel in dreams or memories. But Harry is more sensitive than Mum and me put together and he feels everything. That is the reason why he was able to help the Longbottoms, while we only tried to stabilise him."

"What exactly did you do?", Tom demanded.

"Harry entered their minds on the level where feelings and emotions are stored away. All they remembered of that night was the pain and in Mr. Longbottom's case the guilt, which was slowly eating away from him and was blocking all other emotions or thoughts", Simon said carefully, "Harry soaked up all those sentiments, which he only could because he knew what exactly happened that night and how all of you felt. No-one can undo what already happened, but Harry managed to take away the emotional pain. After Frank Longbottom we thought that Harry was doing fine and that it wasn't as bad as we thought it to be, but Harry was once again masking his feelings so that we would allow him to do it one more time."

"So he has been manipulating us all this time?", Tom asked with barely controlled anger- how dare that little scallywag control his feeling, no wonder he was behaving so oddly lately!

"No", the empath stared at him reproachfully, "You have no idea, how hard it is to feel everything that goes on around you. Harry has his shields up almost all of the time, because he would burst, if he had to experience everything, you put him through, but he still can't block everything out, which is the reason he can react to what you feel. But he isn't manipulating anyone, because he could only do it, if he lets down all of his wards, besides the obvious fact that Harry would never do such a thing."

"So why can't we go see him?", Draco asked, "I mean we all like him, wouldn't that make him feel positive?"

"Harry has to come to terms with all the additional pain, he burdened himself with", the other boy answered, "And he doesn't react to emotions like you would expect him, too, because he doesn't trust his one abilities. Mr. Black is the only one..."

"...he would live for", Severus murmured, remembering what Harry had told him and Simon nodded approvingly: "He's the only one he trusts completely. If he would tell him that the earth is a plate, he wouldn't even bat an eyelash, but try to warn all of the ships, currently making a cruise."

"So there's nothing we can do", Voldemort summed it up.

"Actually, there's something you can do, Sir", the empath said, "There's no way to block the bond, you and Harry share, and I think it would help him, if you could concentrate on something more... positive. And we'd really appreciate it, if you could bring us home."

"Aren't you going to stay?", Draco exclaimed outraged, "You're the one supposed to be good with feelings and you leave Harry alone, when he needs you?"

"Harry's stronger than you think, Draco", Simon said lightly, "And we can't block our feelings even a little bit, because we live on them and that is the last thing Harry needs at the moment."

"But when he shuts down so completely...", Draco murmured, "You just said empaths can't do that."

"He does that, huh?", Simon scowled, "I told him not to, because it's dangerous, if he puts up shields that also hold in his emotions. He shouldn't be doing so, but he can, though it's definitely not good for him."

"We'll take you back", Rudolphus offered and the two empaths willingly held onto the two brothers, who apparated them back to 11, Magnolia Crescent.

Little by little the others scattered and eventually Tom was the only one still waiting for something to happen- what he didn't know, but that was secondary.

One more secret revealed. How many more to go? First Harry was an Animagus, then he had mastered Occlumency, then he had bet two Master of martial arts and now he was an empath. Though he was quite confused, why Harry hadn't caught up on his feeling for the small boy, and he was pretty sure that hadn't happened or Harry wouldn't look so surprised every time he complimented him on something. Maybe it had to do with what the empath had said, that Harry wasn't sure of his own abilities. And he was more than a little relieved that his feeling, if a bit unwelcome, were at least real and not the cause of manipulation.

The door opened slowly and Sirius walked out with a sleeping Harry in his arms.

"How is he doing?"

"I think he's better now", Sirius said tiredly, "I wanted to bring him outside, since it started raining a while ago. Would it be alright, if Harry stayed with me and Remus tonight?"

"Yes", Voldemort sighed, "Make sure he eats something. Just one question: Did you know it?"

Sirius looked at him tiredly: "I knew that Harry's feelings were more intense then usual and I suspect a lot of things. But I want Harry to come to me with me."

Voldemort nodded and they went their separate ways and Tom once again had a sleepless night, while Harry lay snuggled in between his godfathers and fought with his nightmares and the feelings that weren't his own.

* * *

**I want reviews!**


	28. Last Day, Last Night

**Disclaimer: I didn't come up with the Harry Potter charactersm because if I did Harry would mostly likely be named Tim now, since I used to call all my characters either Tim or Tom and since Tom already exist, Harry's name would be Tim. But anyway, what I wanted to say is that I don't own them and that I make no money with this and that I don't mean to offend anyone with what I'm writing.**

**Author's Note: Thank you for all the reviews and sorry to those I haven't answered the last time, but there was some kind of fault and when I wanted to reply it told me that I had already replied, so yeah, sorry. And now something really IMPORTANT: this chapter once again contains LEMONS or at least it did so originally, but there's still something in it, which I hope won't offend anyone. If you want to read the whole chapter you can either ask me nicely or go to ForeverFandom , but you need to be logged in to read it there, or to Adultfanfiction. I think that was all, enjoy.**

**Oh, yes, and a special thanks goes to Flick-Flack, who helped me with the French sentences. Thank you!****

* * *

**

**28. LAST DAY, LAST NIGHT**

Harry stayed with Sirius and Remus in their rooms the whole Saturday and the better part of Sunday until the couple said that they had to go in order to buy the house. Neville also wrote him a letter, thanking him profusely for helping his parents and apologising for being so demanding. After his godfathers had left, Harry locked himself in his study for over an hour before he came out again, looking like nothing had ever happened, though he wouldn't allow anyone to touch him or to meet his eye.

And now he was late for dinner, Tom scowled, if Harry was going to skip anymore meals, he could serve as a skeleton very soon.

"Sorry", Harry slipped into his seat and warily surveyed Draco, who was once again loading his plate, "I was packing my stuff and then I couldn't find my Transfiguration essay..."

"You lent it to me", the blond Slytherin interrupted, "It's still somewhere in my room."

"I can't remember", Harry shrugged and started on his macaroni, "Can you give it to me after dinner? I want to pack my things this evening."

"I can help you, you know?", Tom said and tried to catch Harry's eye, "It won't take long with magic."

"Thank you", his husband replied, picking at his food, not really eating anything.

The conversation wasn't flowing like usual: "I still need to know, if you want to continue your martial arts training once back at Hogwarts. And if yes, then how often a week- Dumbledore wants to know, if he has to play host for two more Death Eaters."

"I would like to continue, but I don't want to deprive them of their free time", the black-haired boy risked a quick glance at the two brown-haired men next to him.

"It's not like we have much else to do, Harry", Rabastan said immediately, "And we would like to train with you."

"Okay", Harry smiled slightly, "Then I would really like to train with you as well."

"So I take it you would rather stay at Hogwarts, too", Voldemort said mildly amused when he saw the happy gleam in two pairs of brown eyes- if possible the brothers had grown even more protective since their rescue mission, "We can work out a schedule, once you know when you have your classes."

Harry hmmed.

"Do you still allow me to help Madam Pomfrey?", he asked cautiously and Tom finally had enough and cupped Harry's pale face to make him look at him, ignoring the flinch: "Of course, I do. Harry, would you please stop this? I know you were hurt badly, but you can't shut us all out because of it... Don't you feel that we're worried about you?"

"I'm sorry", Harry closed his eyes and shivered, drawing back slightly.

"Harry, please look at me", Harry shook his head violently so that his black hair fell into his face and obscured it even more, "Why not, little one?"

"I... I don't want you to read my mind", Harry whimpered.

"No-one will read your mind", the red-eyed man tried to comfort him, "And you are Occlumens, Harry."

"I have my shields down", the small shoulders tensed in a defensive mechanism, "I can't build them up again until those emotions have disappeared. I'm sorry."

Voldemort couldn't control the shudder that passed him at those words, but then he remembered that Harry was seemingly totally unaware of his feelings and that Harry was not at fault: "That still leaves the point that we won't try to invade your mind. Will you look at me, if I promise not to use Leglimency on you?"

Harry slowly nodded his head and his eyes fluttered open and locked with his husband's, who smiled at him: "Thank you, Harry, should I help you packing now?"

Harry gave him an uncertain smile and stood up before they left the hall and two smirking Malfoys, a relieved Severus and two protective Lestranges.

Their room was in utter chaos and Harry smiled sheepishly: "I was going to tidy up before dinner, but then I lost track of time and..."

"No problem, sweetie", _where did that come from?_ Though it certainly suited Harry, "Any specific order you want your things pack?"

Harry shrugged: "Don't know", he had never had much time to pack his school things and the order in which he put his stuff into his trunk was never on the forefront of his mind, "As long as everything is in my trunk it's fine with me."

Voldemort chuckled lightly and snaking his left arm around Harry's slim waist, pressing Harry's back to his chest in the process, started to pack Harry's things. First he summoned the trunk which was buried under a heap of clothes and one or two books, then he separated Harry's clothes from the rest of his stuff and, folding them with a handy household spell he had learned in his first year because of his absolute refusal to renounce his magic once again, levitated them into the bottom of the trunk. Next came Harry's books and his two photo albums, which he had been forbidden to touch in almost the same manner as he had been forbidden to enter the bathroom, when Harry was in there, next to them he put Harry's essays and the cauldron and dragon-hide gloves went into one of the corners. To top it off he put the box, Harry had put all his letters and cards in, into another corner and finally spread one set of school robes on top, so that Harry could find them easily.

Now the only things left in their room that belonged to Harry were his teddy bear, his blanket, his pyjama and his tooth brush and Tom had the stupid thought that it looked like Harry had not lived here for the last month and he was inexplicably glad to have his husband in his arms as proof that it hadn't just been wishful thinking.

"I will help you unpack, when we are in Hogwarts", he offered and led Harry to the sofa, which was once again usable, making him lay down with his head on his thigh.

"But... oh", Harry had just realised that they would be sharing a room in Hogwarts, too, and this made him really upset: Hogwarts had always been his refuge, the one place where he was save from his uncle and the life as a whore and now that would all change because hence it would just continue like nothing had changed.

"What is it, Harry?", Tom asked concerned and petted Harry's silky black hair.

"Nothing", Harry answered subduedly, "It's nothing new."

"Maybe, I can help you", the older man offered, "Tell me what's wrong."

"No", the Gryffindor refused, "You'll be angry."

"I promise, I won't."

"It's just... I didn't occur to me until now that we would be sharing a room", Harry whispered, "I hoped I could go back to Gryffindor Tower. I know it was stupid..."

"No, Harry, it isn't stupid", Tom comforted him, although he was rather disappointed that Harry hated their living together so much, but as he had established a while ago, Harry hadn't as many reasons as he had to like their shared nights or kisses.

He had no illusions about his appearance, he knew he was more than good-looking with wavy black hair, tall built, tanned complexion and his red eyes that gave him that little extra, which made him seem mysterious, but if he assessed Harry's character right that wouldn't impress him much nor would his status as a Dark Lord or his vast knowledge for that matter, though he thought the last was something to work with.

He kicked himself for his next words: "You're after all a Gryffindor and I'll be your teacher, it could become weird. So if you'd rather stay in the tower during the week, you can do so..."

"Really?", Harry asked incredulously and craned his neck in order to look Tom in the face, "You would allow that?"

"Yes, but of course you're always welcome to sleep in our rooms or just come visit", Tom added and caught Harry, who hugged him fiercely and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you", Harry whispered again and again and buried his head in the crook of Tom's neck, "Do you remember, when I asked you if you had an ulterior motive?", he finally asked and Tom nodded, "I think, I like it whatever it is, if it makes you behave so nicely!"

The Dark Lord laughed amusedly and rearranged Harry on his lap so that it was more comfortable for both of them: "What would you like to do this evening?"

"It's... It's Sunday", Harry tensed and looked down- Sunday meant that they had to have sex.

"Well, I don't want to go to bed just now", Tom thought for a moment, "Do you like ice cream? I feel like some at the moment", Harry only looked confused, "That isn't quite the enthusiastic response I expected, but I take that as a yes nonetheless. Let's go!"

He quickly summoned their coats, helping Harry into his and then held the door open for Harry, who still looked apprehensive. Tom pulled his younger husband into his arms and after concentrating briefly apparated them to France, to the Côte d'Azur to be more precise. It was horribly touristic, but to be amongst people would do them good and, well, all those tourists were not coming here for no reason.

Harry slowly freed himself from Tom's embrace and warily looked around. He hated it when he didn't know where he was and dark alleyways made a close second.

"We're at the Côte d'Azur", Tom explained to his young companion and gently tugged him to the main street, "No need to be so nervous, just consider this our first date. We kind of skipped that step in our relationship, so I thought we could make up for it this way...", his voice trailed off hopefully.

Harry followed more willingly after that revelation, though he still looked uncomfortable. The little alleyway Tom had apparated them to led to the boardwalk, which was filled with little stands, musicians and painters, who all tried to get a little money from the many tourists that leisurely strolled along the boardwalk. The air was mild and a bit salty from the waves that quietly rolled onto the beach.

They turned to their right and Tom automatically shortened his steps so that Harry could easily keep up with him. Their hands were still interlaced and Tom at least enjoyed the notion that they were just another happy couple and that they were madly in love with each other, though that only applied to one of them. He glimpsed at the petite wizard through the corner of his eye.

Since he had got to know Harry better, he had repeatedly congratulated himself for the stroke of genius that caused him to draw up the contract. He had always thought it a brilliant idea, of course, but the purpose had altered drastically: First, he had seen this as the perfect way to abduct the boy-who-lived from the Light side, to humiliate him, to break him and finally to mould him into the perfect toy and tool, all of course in order to eventually take over the Wizarding World. But then Harry had come and made him fall in love (he was rather proud of the progress he had made from total denial to ready acceptance) and now his main goal was to make Harry as happy as possible and give him everything he ever could wish for in order to make him return his affection.

It was a stupid aim, at least for a Dark Lord, but maybe that was what the prophesy had been all about, or at least the part he had heard: _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..._ But as he had agreed with Harry, they would just ignore the prophecy- it surely had meddled with their lives more than enough like that senile, old coot.

Dumbledore would have a field day when he found out that Harry would be staying in Gryffindor Tower- something they had argued about in several nasty discussion, with Dumbledore sucking lemon drops and smiling oh-so-benevolently at him and him gripping on every strand of self-restraint. And now with one whispered sentence of Harry he had given up all of his achievements just to lessen the desperation in those beautiful green eyes. Yes, indeed he was a ruthless Dark Lord!

While had analysed his relationship with Harry they had slowly wandered past the many vendors, stopping from time to time to look at the displays, tuning out the vendors, who praised their goods in all kinds of languages. Well, at least that was what Tom was doing, but Harry gave each of them a smile and tried to follow their words, though he would never answer, not even when they spoke English as if he was afraid, they would take offence. He was sure that at least half of what the vendors said to Harry were compliments and that was only the part he didn't understand. The part he did understand consisted to three quarters of compliments and only Harry's hand in his kept him from using his wand.

But Harry seemed to enjoy himself and he would often point out things to Tom, which he thought funny or cute. He couldn't really relate to those feelings, but he did his best to find something positive about them for Harry's sake and every time he said something remotely commendatory his young husband would smile at him and look up at him with shining emerald orbs.

He had just spotted a nice-looking cafe with the tables on a small platform in the direction of the sea, wooden basket-chairs and what looked to be very delicious sundaes and resolutely began to pull Harry towards it, thinking that he had given enough praise already and that he deserved a break, when they bumped into one of the many painters who had supposedly gathered up his stuff to try his luck at another place and who knocked Harry over and covered him with his painting utensils.

"Oh, je suis désolé **(1)**", he started in fast French and helped Harry up, who looked dazed and a bit frightened and gratefully accepted Tom's arm around his waist.

He didn't notice the blue paint that covered the forefront of Harry's shirt, until his fingers touched something wet.

"Tu devrais en être désolé, Muggle **(2)**", Voldemort growled to the painter, who backed away slightly when he noticed the menacing stare from red-eyes.

"Oh, hush, you", Harry slapped his arm reprimandingly and crouched down to help the young man to gather his things, "You mustn't mind him, he hasn't been fed yet."

The painter laughed and also switched to English: "I'm sorry I got paint all over your shirt, but if you don't mind me saying: It makes no difference to your beauty. Could I perhaps draw a picture of you to make up for knocking you over?"

Tom growled once again and mentally cursed every body part of that impertinent French painter, but a pleading look from Harry's eyes pacified him immediately: "If you want to, Harry..."

"Only if you let him paint you, too", Harry replied and slipped his smaller hand back into Tom's, who nodded.

The painter seemed even more exhilarated at the prospect of drawing them both and after organising his things told them how to sit down on the low wall that separated the boardwalk from the beach.

Tom easily lifted Harry onto it and slid behind him, arranging his long legs to fall on either side of his petite husband, who contently leaned back into his chest. For all his skittishness when it came to anything even distantly related to sex, he seemed to enjoy hugs and other body contact, sometimes even chaste kisses very much and even sought them from everyone he liked and trusted. So he at least was among the people who fell into that category. Their hands joined in front of Harry's stomach and Tom's head rested lightly against the top of Harry's. Harry, he thought, though he was clearly too small, had the perfect height for him when they were sitting together as he comfortably could tug the unruly mop of black hair under his chin.

The few times he had seen Harry naked, he had always sworn to make the skinny boy eat more, but Harry always only ever ate as much as he wanted to eat, which mostly wasn't a lot and completely random. Though if he was worried he generally ate less, which was another reason for Voldemort to make his life as stress-free as possible. But nonetheless, he had to admit that Harry was gorgeous, although he had often wondered if he was turning paedophile, whenever someone made a comment about Harry looking younger than he actually was or the age-difference between them, but he knew that Harry, though still young, had experienced too much to be considered a child.

He critically watched the young man setting to work, looking up every so often to study his two objects before finishing another few practised strokes. Harry held perfectly still, except for his thumb which rubbed across Tom's hand soothingly.

"I'm finished", the painter stepped back from the canvas, looking it over one last time, before carefully taking it from its stand and presenting it to the two wizards.

Tom had to admit that the Muggle at least knew what he was doing. He had painted only the two of them and a small piece of wall, leaving the background completely white. The colours matched the real ones perfectly, though Harry's jacket had been tinted a bit brighter than the original, emphasising the contrast between the two of them. He had even caught the red of Tom's eyes, though he probably thought it to be due to contact lenses. Voldemort thought that he had overdone the look of adoration with which he looked down at Harry and Harry's green eyes came no where near the emerald depths, but he wasn't about to complain when he saw the completely awe-struck expression on his young husbands Harry's fingers halted millimetres from the still drying paint and smiled at the young Muggle.

"I'm glad you like it, beautiful", he returned the smile, "What do you think, does your... friend like it, too?"

"I'm his husband", Voldemort snapped irritatedly, "And I think you aren't as incompetent at painting as you're at such common traits as walking."

"That means he likes it", Harry translated and gratefully accepted the wrapped-up painting, which Tom relieved him of at once, "How much do we owe you?"

"I said, it was to make up for being clumsy earlier", the painter protested, "You don't have to pay for it."

"But you said you would paint me to make up for it and you painted us both, so you should get something", Harry tried to persuade him.

"Oh, for heaven's sake", Tom finally had had enough and pushed a wad of English pound notes into the painter's hand before steering Harry away from there and into the cafe, finding a table farthest away from the boardwalk.

They sat in silence for a while until Harry mumbled at last: "I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that I was annoying you."

"**You**weren't the one annoying me", Tom sighed and took Harry' hand in his, "I just didn't want that stupid Muggle to flirt even more with you."

"We weren't flirting", Harry seemed more surprised than offended.

"No, Harry, **you** were not flirting, but **he** definitely was", he smiled as the green eyes widened, "He was practically devouring you with his eyes."

"But...", Harry had blanched at the last words before he quickly composed himself, "Are... Are you jealous?"

Well, this question had to come sooner or later with the way he was behaving: "Yes, Harry", he answered shortly.

"But, why? It's not like you could ever lose me", Harry replied even more perplexedly and Tom added in his mind: "...like I have a choice."

"Of course, I could", Tom explained, "The fact that we're married doesn't necessarily mean that we have to love each other. Look at Rudolphus and Bella", he regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth- now Harry would think that he didn't love him, "But I want you to love me", it certainly wasn't the declaration of love that would make the front-page of Witch Weekly and thousands of wives lecture their husbands of being more romantic, but he hoped that Harry would read between the lines, "I know that it will take more than a month for you to know if you could ever love me, but I at least want a chance before you give up on me for someone else."

"I didn't realise, he was flirting with me", Harry muttered, changing the subject and Tom laughed about his naivety: "So you just assumed he was complimenting your beauty because he couldn't find the right words in English?"

"I thought he was making fun of me", Harry fidgeted nervously.

"Why would he do that, precious?", Tom tugged at Harry's hand to make him look up again, "Do you think I'm making fun of you as well, when I call you beautiful?", his silence was more than enough to answer his question, "Whatever made you doubt yourself so much, should never have happened, Harry. You **are**beautiful and this is not one of those compliments distributed by an old grandfather, who is too blind to really make out his grandchild. Or do you think me so old?", he gave Harry his best playful glare until his husband's doubtful face turned into a smile and soon after a laugh, "I thought as much. Now what would you like to have?", he handed Harry one of the menus and immersed himself in his own, resisting the urge to observe Harry.

When the waiter came up to their table soon after, he ordered a kiwi sundae and a small coffee for himself and then waited for Harry to give his order: "Can I have a scoop of chocolate ice cream and a scoop of vanilla in a wafer?", the young woman nodded and when Harry made no move to add something to his order disappeared.

"Didn't you want one of the sundaes?", Tom asked confused, "I had a really hard time, deciding which one I should order."

"I like the wafers best", Harry answered embarrassedly, though that wasn't the whole truth: He had never had vanilla or chocolate ice cream before because obviously the Dursley didn't allow him such things and at Florean Fortescue's they didn't really sell something so Muggle and if they really did, Harry had always been too excited about the more unusual flavours to buy one then.

They ate their ice cream in silence and Tom offered Harry some of his every time Harry had found him staring at the way he licked the cold substance, which was quite often, and after Tom had finished his coffee and paid the bill, they slowly walked back to the boardwalk and from there to the next deserted alleyway, from where Tom apparated them back to the castle.

Harry knew what was coming next, had dreaded it the whole evening and since he thought he had done his waiting and dreading, he slowly approached his older husband, who had just hung up their jackets, and shakily started to unbutton his shirt.

Tom just watched him for a while- never before had Harry taken the initiative and only when Harry had got rid of his black shirt, did he take action again and scooped the small boy up and carried him to their bedroom, where he laid him down on the silk covers. He then slowly pulled Harry's paint-covered tee-shirt over his head, kissing every centimetre of newly exposed skin, making Harry mewl and writhe underneath him.

This was by far Harry's favourite part of their weekly routine. The time when Tom would kiss him while whispering sweet nothings into his ear, making it easier for him to pretend that he wanted this and that he enjoyed it, maybe even that Tom truly cared about him. He was jerked from his thoughts when he felt his trousers and boxer-shorts being pushed to his ankles and saw Tom's face hovering over his slightly-hardened cock, letting his breathes ghost over the sensitive skin.

"What are you doing?", Harry stopped him when the Dark Lord was about to take his semi-erect member into his mouth.

"As far as I know the correct term is 'blow-job'", Tom continued to cover Harry's inner thighs and belly with small kisses.

"But... that's degrading!", Harry protested, his uncle's punishments all to clear in his mind, "Why would you want to do that?"

"That's exactly the point: As long as I want to do it, it's not degrading", Tom briefly wondered if he should be worried about Harry's strange reaction, but quickly dismissed it- Harry was most likely only nervous because he had never done something like this before, "And I want to do this. I want to taste you, lovey. And I want to pleasure you. And I want to see your face, when you come. So may I give you a blow-job? It would be an honour..."

Harry blushed profusely but eventually nodded and leaned back into the pillows. The red-eyed man smirked victoriously- sometimes Harry was too innocent for his own good, not that he minded of course. He slipped Harry's trousers and boxer-shorts over his small feet and threw them to the floor before he slowly kissed a trail up to the dark curly hair that surrounded his treasure, smiling every time Harry mewed and moaned. The skin there was even softer than on the rest of his body.

Harry shuddered under the light touch of lips everywhere on his lower body, not even knowing anymore if he should flinch back or press closer when he felt Tom's hot lips engulf his aching member. First the wetness was only around the head of his cock, but then the Dark Lord started to suckle lightly, making his member harden even more. He couldn't really see Tom's mouth, but he was sure he was smirking at him, though he wasn't able to worry or be embarrassed about that now with all this feelings coursing through him- his own and Tom's. Harry was still trying to get rid of all the emotions he had soaked up from the Longbottoms. He had known that it was dangerous and that he shouldn't have made the second journey into Mrs. Longbottom's mind, but that didn't seem too important then and after all he had pulled through. It was not like the pain was something new. He didn't regret it. But hopefully he would be able to built up his shields before the memories of his relatives overwhelmed him. Tom deep-throated him and Harry couldn't hold back a gasp or prevent his hands from clenching in the silk sheets.

The red-eyed man chuckled as he saw the impassioned face, sending vibrations through Harry's member, and began to tease Harry's cock with his tongue licking the pre-come from it and fondling his balls with his large hands. Harry tossed his head from side to side arching his back and mewing repeatedly when Tom squeezed his balls a bit harder and bobbed his head up and down. That did it for Harry and Tom happily swallowed the bittersweet liquid, until Harry dropped back down into the soft cushions, totally spent.

Tom propped himself up and carefully moved up so that his face hovered above Harry's: "It looks to me like you liked it as much as I did, didn't you, kitten?"

Harry hummed appreciatively and looked up at him sleepily: "Thank you. For everything."

"Not a problem, sweetheart."

"Why do you keep calling me those names?", Harry inquired insecurely.

"Because I like you, pet", Tom answered missing the wince at that particular endearment, "And till I find the one that suits you perfectly I have to try them all."

"Please, don't call me that, Tom."

"What?", the Dark Lord asked confusedly, "You don't like it when I use terms of endearments for you?"

"Please don't call me 'pet'", Harry clarified, shivering at the memories of his uncle calling his aunt that.

"Okay, I'm sorry", Voldemort relented once he became aware of the connotation- it was hardly Harry's fault that he wasn't fond of being called someone's pet, "So what it your favourite name? I tend to either 'little one', 'precious', 'sweetie' or 'kitten'. What do you say?"

"Why those four?", Harry asked, snuggling into the warmth Tom's body next to his provided.

"Hm, let me think", he put his arms around his petite husband, "'Little one' because you're so delicate that I'm always afraid I might break you if I hold you too tightly. 'Precious' because you are the one I would pay dearest for just to know that you will always stay with me. 'Sweetie' because you have the sweetest smile and nature. And 'kitten' because your Animagus-form and because you make those adorable noises when we have sex."

"I... Do you really feel that way about me?", Harry looked up shyly, a hopeful spark in his eyes.

"Yes, Harry", Tom carefully turned Harry around so that he could look into those brilliant green eyes, "I know that I'm certainly not the husband of your dreams and that the way I made you marry me gave me bad credit in your books, but, Harry, I really like you and I want you to be happy. So may I call you those names?"

Harry nodded insecurely: "Now, I feel bad because I haven't got a nickname for you..."

"But you have, kitten", Tom smiled at him, "No-one else but you calls me Tom and I like that nickname. So ready for the next round?"

Harry stiffened but nodded, ducking his head in order to return the favour, but this time Tom stopped him: "You said it was degrading and I totally agree when you don't want to do it. And I know that you don't enjoy all this- I don't want to humiliate you even further. And I'll surely get my money's worth."

"Thank you", Harry whispered.

Tom smiled and kissed Harry's full lips, slipping his tongue easily past them and engaging their tongues in a wild dance that quickly turned into a duel of dominance, though Harry gave up soon after, melting in his lover's embrace.

It was time for the shields he decided, when Tom's slender fingers moved back to his private areas, while his other hand searched for the lubricant.

**---SCENE EDITED---**

**For your information: Harry tried to build up his shields, but didn't quite accomplish it, which caused him to have flashbacks. Because of those flashbacks he was more then tense and Tom hurt him more than usual, which Tom also noticed. Well that's about it, but you can also ask me for the whole chapter.**

"Harry?", he called questioningly, but Harry gave no reply; so instead one tanned hand loosened its hold around his body and crept between his thighs, gently caressing the wet flesh before he brought it back to his eyes- blood! Again he had hurt Harry and he wasn't even sure if he had made him come as well, "Sweetie, I'm really sorry I have hurt you, I promise I'll make it up to you", he kissed Harry's mouth chastely and then performed a cleaning charm for both of them, setting his wand so that it would heat up in the morning, before he settled back down, concernedly drawing Harry's small form into his arms and went to sleep.

Harry didn't get a wink of sleep, but at least it gave him the time to reinforce all his shields. He may trust Tom not to read his mind, but Dumbledore was a completely different matter.

**

* * *

(1) Oh, I'm sorry. **

**(2) You should be sorry, Muggle!

* * *

**

**Review? Please?**


	29. Back to Hogwarts

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

**Author's Note: I'm realy busy right now and I apologise for not answering your reviews yet, but I really have no time right now because I have to do so much for school and then my MUm decided that I should tutor her in English and my car is broke and I just got the plan with all my exams on it and that is really depressing, let me tell you. Although I had a very mild form of writer's block which is the reason it took me so long, which again is the reason I have no time to answer your reviews. But I have read them all and I can just say that you are all so good to me #squeal# and I will answer them as soon as possible, promise. On that note, I'm not sure if I will be able to update tomorrow so don't kill me if I don't...**

* * *

**29. BACK TO HOGWARTS**

"Good morning", Harry entered the breakfast hall for his last breakfast in Slytherin Castle for a long time with an exuberant smile and still dripping wet hair, "Isn't this day just great?"

"No", Draco said bluntly morosely munching on his roll, "So stop smiling!"

"You just got up on the wrong side of bed", Harry gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek, "But Severus you do agree with me, don't you?", he kissed the Potion's Master, looking hopeful.

"I can't see anything positive about having to endure another teacher's meeting and everyone's well-meant efforts to socialise me just to start another year of supervising incompetent first through seventh years, repairing my classroom at least once a week, because some klutz decided to not do his homework and instead opted for blowing up his potion", Severus sneered displeasedly.

"Well, and you obviously don't have an optimistic bone in your body", Harry waved his answer away, "What about you two?", Harry stood between the Lestrange brothers, watching their reaction expectantly.

"I have a headache", Rabastan complained, rubbing his temple for emphasis, "Could you maybe keep your good mood to yourself?"

"How I see it you both have a hangover and therefor it's your own fault", Harry argued, "And you do know that there's a spell to help with it, don't you?"

"I don't think I like you being an empath very much...", Rudolphus said, but performed the spell.

"That had nothing to do with empathy", Harry laughed, kissing them both and slipping into his seat, "But maybe next time you decide to get drunk you should consider not getting the alcohol all over your clothes or at least changing into new ones."

"I thought you'd be angrier with us for drinking", Rabastan muttered, "Are you sure, someone didn't hit you with a cheering charm this morning?"

"It's your business when you decide to drown your sorrow in alcohol", Harry said seriously, "I certainly don't approve, but it's hardly my place to forbid you to do it, though I wished you would have asked for help. And yes, I'm absolutely sure that my good mood isn't spell-induced- it's just such a great day."

"We're sorry, Harry", Rudolphus gave Harry a one-armed hug, "We didn't want to make you worry even more."

"I always worry", Harry declared happily, "And I'm always there for you, if you need me. But should I ever see you drunk or with a hangover again, I'll persuade Nearly Headless Nick to put together an orchestra for you, understand? Do you want to talk about it later?"

The brothers exchanged a look before nodding and turning back to their breakfast.

"So, may I inquire the reason for your high spirits today?", Lucius asked after silently offering Harry his white coffee.

"Of course", Harry's smile threatened to split his face in halves, "I'm going back to Hogwarts!"

"I don't see why this would make you so happy", Draco scowled, "Classes, homework, in your case detentions, Gryffindorks, Dumbledore and a lot of work."

"Aren't you happy to see your friends again?", the black-haired boy asked incredulously, "The castle with all its secret passageways? All those magical creatures in the Forbidden Forest? Hogsmead weekends? Hell, even to learn more?"

"We've only seen Blaise two days ago", Draco argued, "And unlike you I have no desire to ever set foot in the Forbidden Forest again."

"That's a pity then", Harry still smiled, "And I'm still happy and if you chose to be all discontented about this, I won't stop you. Tom, are you at least looking forward to going to Hogwarts?", Harry said pleadingly.

"I used to think the same way", he sighed, "But now the thought of Dumbledore offering lemon drops to me spoils all pleasant anticipation."

"Oh, poor boy", Harry kissed his cheek for the second time that morning, "Those things are nasty."

"You actually took one of those?", Draco demanded incredulously, "No wonder, you look forward to school."

"I was hungry", Harry shrugged nonchalantly and pushed his untouched plate away, "Can't you hurry up a little, the train goes in less than two hours?"

"Which leaves you with ample time to finish your breakfast", Tom pushed Harry's plate back, "Why don't you eat some more?"

"I'm not hungry", the small boy pushed it away once again, "I'm going to send Hedwig off to Hogwarts. Are you two going to find me later?", he made eye contact with the Lestrange brothers.

"If you don't mind, we'll accompany you", Harry offered his hands to the brothers, who each took one and followed Harry outside.

"So, why did you feel the need to drink yourselves into oblivion?", the Gryffindor asked while he stroked Hedwig white feathers good-bye and carried her to the unglazed window.

The owlery was much cleaner than the one in Hogwarts and Dobby had once explained to him that there were several old spells on the walls and the floor that kept it that way. And of course in this castle less than twenty owls stayed permanently, which made it a lot easier for the house-elves to catch the feathers before someone was disturbed.

He heard a synchronised sigh behind him from the Lestranges followed by the noises of two tall and heavy bodies sliding down to the floor: "I guess, it was just too much", Rudolphus started, "To relive those memories and then to see you so broken. We were really afraid that you would die trying to right our wrongs. And then Simon told us about you being an empath and that you had felt all the pain, I forced on Longbottom..."

Harry interrupted him while snuggling between them: "It's over and I'm fine. It's not your fault. I knew what I was risking and none of you could have stopped me. Simon is my best-friend and I wouldn't have listened to him because I knew that I could do this. I'm sorry I left you in the dark about everything, but I was afraid you would tell Tom and... I couldn't deal with him then. I'm sorry."

"We wouldn't have told him, Harry, but we would have known better how to react", Rabastan said without reproach, "You are our first priority. Before being Death Eaters we are your friends and if you tell us a secret we will keep it."

Harry smiled brilliantly and grabbed their hands, noting that Rabastan's hands were a bit broader: "Thank you. I keep your secrets, too, so is there anything else you would like to tell me..."

"I found a letter from Bellatrix to Gringotts", Rudolphus scowled, "She was going to write all of our accounts over to her name before you got rid of her. Now that all Death Eaters are rehabilitated she can easily do it, because of that stupid marriage contract and I can do nothing about it. I'm completely helpless against her."

"You are not", Harry emphasised every word, "In a fair duel you could easily defeat her, couldn't you? And you're a Lestrange and the head of the family while she's only a daughter of some unknown Black who wasn't even part of the main family. You are both higher up in Tom's stupid little hierarchy than her. You withstood the Dementors- something that she couldn't do. And when someone looks at you, they don't have to think twice if you're really human. You are in no way inferior to her, Rudolphus!", Harry took a deep breath to calm himself again, nudging the younger brother with his elbow when he felt his amusement, "If you give me a copy of your marriage contract, I'll find a way out of it for you."

"I don't think that there is any", Rabastan sighed deeply, "We already asked our lawyer and searched for a loop hole, but..."

"Nothing but", Harry interrupted him, "Generations of Blacks went to Slytherin. Don't tell me they didn't think of a loop hole that could get them out of this marriage, should it become inconvenient. And when there's a loop hole for their party, we just have to twist it around till it suits our purpose."

"Still, if I were to divorce Bellatrix, I would have to marry another Black and since only your godfather is eligible, I would have to marry him. You don't want him to have to break up with Lupin, do you?"

"Well, then Remus will have to finally get up the nerve to ask for Sirius' hand", the black-haired boy smirked happily, "He has been carrying the ring around for more than two years now and Sirius knows it, too. But do you think one of them would bring up the courage? No! So don't worry and don't ever drink again, okay?"

"Promise", Rabastan said for the both of them and helped Harry up, "After all we have to set a good example as we're your teachers."

Harry chuckled, following them down the steps before walking between the two muscled figures, enjoying the protection they provided- he had long since got used to their presence.

When they arrived back in the great hall after a short detour to the two men's room in order to fetch their already packed suitcases, everyone else who was going to Hogwarts plus the Malfoys was back there and had their trunks or suitcases with them, waiting for them.

"We'll apparate directly to platform 9 ¾", Tom ordered after shrinking his and Harry's baggage to fit in his robe pocket, "Rabastan and Rudolphus, you can either stay here and follow later to Hogwarts or you can come with us now and use my and Severus' portkey to the Hog's Head."

"We are going to accompany you, Mylord", Rudolphus inclined his head respectfully.

"Severus?", Harry approached the dour-looking man cautiously, who looked inquiringly, but not unfriendly at the raven-haired boy, "Will you go back to hating me once we're back at school?"

Severus eyes widened slightly, when he recognised the fear in Harry's eyes- his hatred against James Potter had gone too far and hurt an innocent child: "No, Harry. I could never hate you now that I came to get to know you."

"You can treat me like you absolutely detest me, but please don't hate me", Harry begged him.

Everyone was shocked when Severus gently put his arms around Harry's slender waist and pulled him close: "You're worth more to me than my reputation could ever be, Harry, but again old habits die hard."

"You don't have to change, Severus", Harry pressed closer, "Half of the student and teacher body would probably get a heart attack if you started to be nice to Harry Potter. Just promise me that you won't hate me."

"I promise, Harry", Severus chuckled and released the small Gryffindor from his embrace, "Now, weren't you the one who wanted to go as early as possible?"

Harry smiled at him, before he moved into Tom's waiting arms, snuggling into the black robes: "Let's go!", the Dark Lord ordered when Draco was holding onto his father and everyone had shrunk their baggage and apparated himself and his delicate husband to the station.

Several heads turned at the loud plopping sound when the group of black-clad figures appeared, some deciding to stare for a moment too long before pretending, they weren't interested in the least whilst whispering among themselves. The four Death Eaters, Narcissa and Draco formed a circle around Voldemort and Harry, who still had his head buried in Tom's chest, breathing heavily.

"Harry?", Tom tried to peer into Harry's face by pushing him away slightly, but his husband wouldn't budge and instead groaned lowly: "Stop moving. You're making it worse."

"I'm making what worse?", Tom asked concernedly but held still.

"Nausea", Harry moaned pitifully, "My head won't stop spinning and I feel really dizzy."

Tom carefully brushed the wild hair from Harry's forehead and put his hand on it, feeling the slightly damp and heated skin: "Anything I..."

"Just don't move", Tom put his right hand on the small of Harry's back to stabilise him exchanging a worried look with Severus, who had no an idea what to do, either.

Finally after about five minutes, which Rudolphus and Rabastan had used to load everyone's suitcase, Harry straightened up and after a deep breath turned around in Tom's embrace, leaning back against the red-eyed wizard's chest.

"I know it won't be very conducive to your already low self-esteem, but you don't look too good, Harry", Draco said, examining Harry's chalk-white face.

"I'm fine", Harry gave his standard answer.

"You'll go see Madam Pomfrey as soon as we arrive in Hogwarts, Harry", Tom said sternly, "It can't be normal that you are dizzy all the time."

"Nothing is ever normal with me, so in fact this is normal for me", the small boy gave back, "But I already said that I would go to Madam Pomfrey, so I will. And it was only temporary."

"Harry", Neville breached through the ring and hugged the shorter boy, "I'm so glad you are okay again. Did you get my letter? I'm so sorry for how I acted. I can't thank you enough for what you did. I brought you a Mimbulus Mimbletonia and one of the lilies you like so much. My mother helped me with it. My parents are here, too, the healers said they made a full recovery and now only need to relearn to live a normal life. Thank you so much, Harry."

"I'm glad I could help", Harry smiled back at him and at the two people that slowly approached their group, "Mr. Longbottom, Mrs. Longbottom, how are you feeling?"

"We're feeling good", the blond-haired, tall wizard replied, returning the smile, "You must be Lily's and James' son, Harry. Our son has told us a lot about you. You look just like your father, just your eyes, your eyes are your mother's."

"Yes", Harry chuckled, "I hear that often."

"You have a lot more from your mother", Mrs. Longbottom said, "Pale skin, your nose, small figure and from what I heard the urge to help others. It was you who helped us, wasn't it, Harry?"

"My friends helped me", Harry unconsciously moved closer to the Lestranges, who looked decidedly uncomfortable.

Frank Longbottom furrowed his brow in thought as his eyes first swept over Rabastan and then landed on the older brother: "Yes, I remember. You helped them with your memories, the healers said", they both nodded in unison, "Well, then I thank you, too."

"You have nothing to thank us for", Rudolphus muttered almost aggressively, "We tried to right some of our wrong-doings, that's all."

"Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me again, but I can't remember you doing anything wrong, except perhaps burgling our house", Frank scowled at them, "You had to decide between me and your brother. I can't blame you for choosing your brother. I would have chosen Alice over both of you anytime."

"I'll never understand the Light side", Rabastan murmured, "We practically kill you and it's okay?"

"That's what I told you!", Harry punched them both, "Stop with that nonsense!"

"Oh, and you definitely have your mother's temper", Alice laughed, "I remember all the times James tried to ask her out... And then when she went into labour almost a month early, she screamed at everyone who even came near her."

"James' hand was blue, when he was finally allowed to leave the delivery room to go to the loo", Frank smirked.

"I didn't know that I was a preemie", Harry said softly.

"Oh, but you were", Alice smiled gently at him, "The healers were so worried about you because you weighed so little. James and Lily stayed in the hospital for over two months before they were finally allowed to take you home. And then it took another six months until James could finally persuade Lily to leave you with Remus and Black. I'm so glad they got him. To think what could have happened if he had got custody of you..."

"Sirius is my godfather", Harry growled dangerously, "And he is innocent. He never betrayed my parents and he never was a Death Eater. It was Pettigrew all along, who by the way is serving his sentence in Azkaban."

"What? But Peter...", Frank looked really confused, "He is a Death Eater."

"Was, to be exact", Voldemort spoke up, "I delivered him to the Ministry as a part of the contract. I take it you know of the contract."

Frank nodded mutely, but Alice had regained her composure: "But it fits... Do you remember that one time they had Peter as a baby-sitter? He didn't feed Harry anything and if Sirius hadn't found the still full bottle, he would most likely got ill again, with his poor health and all. Harry never ever cried for anything."

"Why didn't he cry?", Draco asked interestedly, "I mean, babies do cry a lot, don't they?"

"Harry never did", Alice said, "At first I really envied Lily for it. No sleepless nights. But after that incident everybody realised how much more they had to look out for him. Sirius was almost always around. He loved Harry to bits, he wouldn't have sided with someone, who tried to kill him."

"You can bet your bottom knut", Sirius rich voice floated through the air before he hugged his godson to his chest and swirled him around, "So how is my favourite godson doing?"

"I'm your only godson", Harry laughed kissing his cheek.

"Oh, but even if I had a thousand godsons, you'd still be my favourite", the Animagus assured him, "So anyone you'd like me to kill? You know I still have thirteen free shots."

"Not at the moment", Harry said in a light tone, "Where did you leave Remi?"

"He left me to pick up all the dishes he dropped in a rush to get here on time", the werewolf stated dryly, accepting Harry's hug, "Alice, Frank, it's nice to see you're doing better."

"Yes, I absolutely agree with you, Remus", Frank said, "But we just realised that we missed a lot, maybe you could catch us up so that we won't make such a blunder again? And I'm sorry, Sirius, that I thought you had betrayed Lily and James."

"That's what everyone thought after all", Sirius waved it away, "Remus and I wanted to have some lunch later on- if you feel up to it you are welcome to join us", he turned back to Harry without waiting for an answer, saying his good-byes.

The Hogwarts Express whistled for the first time signalling that it was time for the students to get on the train. Harry and Sirius hugged fiercely neither willing to let go for a long while, but finally after many promises to write and come visit Harry moved on to Remus, who also hugged him and told him to be careful, and Harry ordered him to watch out for himself and Sirius.

Meanwhile Draco had kissed his mother on both cheeks and barely dodged her attempt to kiss his forehead, claiming indignantly that he was much too old for that and said good-bye to his father receiving a warning to behave himself and in a much quieter voice to look out for Harry.

Neville was currently being hugged by his mother, who had tears in her eyes at having to let her son go after such a short time she had had to get to know him.

Harry made eye contact with the two brown-haired brothers, asking them silently if he could hug them, too, and they wordlessly opened their arms, smiling imperceptibly when Harry stood on his tiptoes to kiss their cheeks.

Neville in the meantime had switched to hug his father, who looked slightly at awe, to hold his son in his arms.

Harry freed himself from Rudolphus' embrace after he had reassured him that he would find a way to help him and shyly approached the group of silver-blonds, gratefully accepting Narcissa's hug and the kiss on his forehead.

"Look after yourself, dear", she said in a motherly voice, "And if you ever need anything, we'll help you, understood?"

"Yes", Harry smiled, "Thank you for everything. Thank you so much."

He looked unsurely at Lucius: "May I hug you or will that ruin your reputation?"

"Never ask what you can do for your reputation, ask what your reputation can do for you", Lucius smirked while opening his arms invitingly, "See, I do know Muggle things. This US-president said that..."

Harry burst out laughing: "Lucius, I think it will be better if you keep to the Wizarding World."

"You are hard to please, Harry", Lucius said mock-disappointedly, "But if you say, I shouldn't delve into Muggle things, who am I to disagree?"

"Thank you, Lucius", Harry answered sincerely, "Thanks for taking me in and for keeping my secrets and thanks for..."

"It was nothing, Harry", the blond man interrupted when the second whistle resounded over the emptying platform, "You will always be welcome."

"You should really go", Tom motioned to the train and to the nearest door where Blaise and Greg stood blocking it, "Harry, I'll see you at Hogwarts", he tenderly kissed his petite husband for a moment, "If something goes wrong..."

"I'll act according to the situation", Harry smiled at him, "I will be fine, Tom", he jumped on the train just as the heavy iron wheels started to rotate and was caught by Draco and Blaise, waving at the group of Death Eaters, teachers, Azkaban escapees and St. Mungo's patients, especially at Severus because he hadn't been able to say good-bye to him properly.

Neville had already boarded the train through another door several minutes earlier.

"Don't look so sad, Harry", Draco dragged the scrawny boy to the compartment he and his friends had claimed as their own on their first ride to Hogwarts, "You'll see most of them again this evening."

"I know", Harry smiled, "I just never realised how good it feels to have someone standing there, who you can wave to."

"Don't your relatives usually do that?", Blaise asked surprisedly, but exchanged a knowing look with his blond-haired best-friend.

"Huh?", Harry was so deep in thought that it took a second for him to regain his nonchalance, "Oh, they always said good-bye to me in the car. They don't like to be around a lot of wizards very much. It makes them nervous."

Blaise pushed open the compartment door and plopped down in one of the window seats next to Pansy. With one witch and six wizard, two of which were extraordinarily large, the compartment was rather full, but eventually everyone had found a seat and gave Blaise their presents, wishing him a happy birthday. At last Harry was the only one left and extended a well wrapped square package from his trunk with the help of Greg, who had easily lifted him up so that he could reach it.

"Happy Birthday", he hugged the dark-skinned boy and kissed his cheek, "I hope you like it."

Blaise while still assuring him that it hadn't been necessary curiously unwrapped the gift, revealing a simple box, filled to the brim with all sorts of Muggle sweets: Coke-flavoured drops, Coke-flavoured chewing gum, Coke-flavoured gum, even Coke-flavoured chocolate and Fred's and George's newest invention little Coke-bottles which turned the drinker into some kind of fast-food and made him or her advertise the sweet brown liquid. Safely tucked under the sweets were three bottles of normal Coke and three bottles of Vanilla Coke.

"I don't really know anything about you", Harry shrugged helplessly, "I had no idea what else to get you."

"Are you kidding me?", Blaise hugged Harry, who was only just able to twist his head to the side so that he wouldn't be suffocated, "If it means I'll get those for every birthday if I don't tell you more about myself, I'll give a vow of silence right now. How did you get those?"

"My cousin mostly", Harry answered smiling relievedly, "He loves this stuff as well."

"Thank you, Harry", Blaise grinned at the other boy before he devoutly shuffled through he box, deciding which sort of sweets he should try first.

Greg, Vince, Pansy and Draco started a cards game soon after and Ted busied himself with an adventure book. Harry who sat next to Draco snuggled into the blond watching the Slytherins drowsily and patted Pansy's cat Picasso, who had laid down on his lap, decorating his school robes with long white hairs.

"If it isn't the Snakes with their little pet", the door to their compartment had slid open mockingly quiet and now Hermione, Ron and Ginny stood in the doorway sneering at Harry with hate-filled eyes; Hermione had been the one to throw the first insult, her prefect's badge gleaming in the seemingly electric light, "You really are a traitor, Potter. And to think we considered giving you a second chance if you apologised for your behaviour... But it's clear that you are where you belong: in the dirt and filth of You-Know-Who's harem. You deserve everything you get!"

"It's obvious you gave up your principles for a bit more fame, Harry", Ginny had the audacity to caress his cheek mockingly, "You disappointed everyone, but soon you'll realise what a mistake you made and come crawling back to us, begging for our forgiveness."

Harry stood slowly, stopping the Slytherins from intervening: "Are you quite finished?"

"Harry James Potter, how dare you to dismiss us so easily, we were always your friends and we would still be if you hadn't stabbed our backs", the bushy-haired girl screeched, "But you always have to be the centre of attention, don't you? The great boy-who-lived. You couldn't bear the thought that anyone could have a bit of happiness, too. First you get on the Quidditch-team, though everyone knows that it really should have been Ron, then when **we** save the stone and Ginny in second year you take all the credit. You don't see that your beloved godfather is insane and corrupting everyone, but instead feed the public some lies only so that he can admire and adore you more. Then in fourth year you topped it all by cheating your way into the tournament steeling what little attention Victor or any other guy would have liked to give me, because no-one is allowed to spend time with someone else when Harry bloody Potter enters a room and because you can't save the whole Wizarding World if there's no threat, you helped You-Know-Who to come back and killed Cedric so that everyone would pity you. The DA was my idea and you knew damn well that I would have been a much better teacher than you, but of course once again you get all the credit. And those lies you told us about your family just another way to get our attention and pity and of course a good excuse why you couldn't be bothered to write us. After all, we don't worship you enough anymore... You really are pathetic, Potter."

"Oh, did you say something?", Harry asked confusedly when the constant ramble finally ceased, "I got the general idea that you hate me, but I think you got a bit carried away, Hermione. After all if I was so despicable why did you waste five years of your precious time on me? Didn't you realise how reprobate I am the first time you set your eyes on me, you the brightest witch of your age? Or did you think you could convert me? And now you give up, not very courageous, are we? You forgot something, Hermione, all of you, **I**have been your friend for the last few years and though I now know that you just used me to get a bit of fame or power or money, I always was yourfriend and I know a lot of secrets about you. You may have fooled yourself with this little scene, but not me. So I ask you to go because I no longer feel comfortable in your presence before I tell each of you what the others think of him or her", Harry pointed at the door his eyes unwaveringly locked with Hermione, "You're a sad species, Hermione, for all your knowledge and intelligence you have not a shred of common sense", he turned to Ron, "Ron, I really liked you but never that way and I may be Tom's whore now, but I've too much dignity left to play your fuck toy. I hope that one day you'll grow up and understand why I reacted like that", at last his eyes landed on Ginny, "I sincerely wish you a happy life, but not with me. I always thought of you as a sister. If not for this, I might have considered going out with you, but I know that I would only have been another conquest on your rapidly growing list. The door is behind you, please go, now."

"This is not over yet, Potter", Hermione screamed outraged and swirled around, Ron followed like a lost little puppy.

"Potter, no-one is fooled by your image of the virginal Saint Potter. If you ever feel in need of a change from all your little Slytherins fucking you, just let me know", Ginny smiled maliciously, "This certainly is fine evidence to reaffirm your title as the Whore of Gryffindor. I should inform Colin what a nice little get together you had with your partner in crime", she threw her head around, staring at Malfoy, "The Slut and the Whore, what a nice picture! What do you think would your dear husband say at this information?"

"You can ask him yourself, Ginny", Harry said tiredly, pushing her out, "He will be teaching Defence this year. Feel free to lie in his face."

The door closed in front of the red-head's ashen face.

"I'm sorry", Harry whispered when Ginny was gone, slipping down to the floor his back pressed against the compartment door and his arms thrown around his knees, "I'm sorry, they insulted you."

"Hush, Harry", Draco sat down on his right while Blaise sat on the other side, both putting an arm around Harry's shaking form, "It's not your fault."

"Shouldn't have let them insult you", Harry sniffed, curling tighter into himself, "You had nothing to do with this."

"We have nothing to do with them", Blaise agreed, chewing on his gum, "But we are your friends and when they insult you it has something to do with us. Slytherins might not be brave, but they protect their own."

Harry sniffed, but tried a tentative smile when Blaise offered him a candy.

"I hope you know that it is totally unbecoming of a Malfoy to sit on the floor", Draco said haughtily and picked Harry up in one quick motion, settling him back on the bench, between himself and Blaise, "You should know better by now than to bring me in conflict with the Malfoy book of conduct, not that I ever read it, but I'm fairly sure there's a no-sitting-on-the-floor-rule in it. I will have to demand an account", Draco said sorrowfully, but had to laugh when Harry's unruly head swivelled around to stare at him with nervous green eyes, "But of course, being the honourable- and absolutely fabulous-looking- Slytherin I am, I'll give you two options: Either Gryffindor will lose the first Quidditch-match of the season or you accommodate us with some answers."

"Answers?", Harry asked cautiously, "What answers?"

"For example: What did buck-teeth mean when she talk about the lies about your family you supposedly told them? Why did you react so violently to Greg and Vince? Why do you apologise for things that weren't even remotely your fault? What secret does my father keep for you? Why is your self-esteem so low? Why don't you trust anyone but your godfather?"

"I'll let you win", Harry said curtly and got up, "The answers to those questions are none of your concern."

"Harry,...", Draco tried to stop him, but Harry wrenched his arm from his grip: "No, Draco. I really like you, but this is private and if you don't want to be friends with me, so be it."

"Harry, please", Blaise moved to block the doorway- Pansy had gone of earlier to visit some girl friends of hers and the three other boys had gone in search of the food lady, "We only want to help you, Harry. When you... collapsed at my party, no-one knew what to do. It wasn't a nice feeling. What are we to do when it happens again?"

"Just don't do anything", Harry replied pleadingly, "Just leave me alone."

"So it will happen again", Draco concluded, "Harry, please, you can trust us. We won't tell anyone. You trusted my dad, didn't you?"

"He found out by accident", Harry lowered his head, "And he doesn't know everything. I don't want to tell you, please don't make me."

"Okay, Harry", Draco agreed with a heavy heart, "But promise that you will tell us one day when you know us better."

"I promise", Harry hugged the blond tightly, the Italian boy came up from behind, trapping the lithe boy between them.

"We're always there for you if you need us", he assured him, "And even if you don't need us. That's what friends are for."

"Why do you care so much?", Harry asked surprised, "You don't know me very well..."

"Draco and I shared everything since we were little midgets", Blaise laughed, "And it should only be fair that since you're Draco's friend you should be mine, too. And you have such an engaging nature..."

Harry shoved him playfully: "You Slytherins certainly are impossible. Engaging nature, Merlin, is there a special dictionary for such phrases?"

"Of course", Draco replied haughtily, drawing Harry back to their seats, "But it's top secret. Maybe I'll let you peek at it sometime."

The train slowed noticeable and after Blaise had peered through the window, he declared that they had almost reached Hogsmead Station. Harry briefly panicked when he could find neither his captain's badge nor his wand, but with Draco's and Blaise combined help they found the first in his trunk and the second in Harry's robe pocket. As they finally had discovered both, the other students had already filled the carriages and they were only just able to catch the last one, which was thankfully enough empty.

"Harry, let me fix your hair", Draco ordered, resolutely manoeuvring the smaller boy between his legs.

"And to think that I never realised you're gay", Harry muttered moodily, glaring at Blaise, who was laughing at him.

"How does that look?", Draco asked over Harry's head, but Blaise grimaced and gave him a thumbs-down at the resemblance of a side parting Draco had tried.

It continued like that for the rest of the journey and Harry was glad when he could finally leave his two self-appointed stylists with a hairdo that to him at least didn't look any different.

* * *

**I would be enormously honoured if you chose to write a review for me...**


	30. One Long Night

**Disclaimer: Still not mine! **

**Author's Note: I'm back! And it's the weekend! I'll try to update daily again, but it finally hit me that I have school again and that I should do something since this is my last year and make good of my promise to do more, blablabla. Well, anway, I'll have to see how it works out, but maybe I'll only update every two days now or even only weekly, though I think that's a bit hard. Just wanted to prewarn you. And now enjoy!

* * *

**

**30. ONE LONG NIGHT**

The first time in the Great Hall after the holidays was always overwhelming, overpowering and stunning, but Harry loved it nonetheless. He closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath, although the air inside was actually quite stuffy, but that didn't matter because he was back, he was finally free- or as free as he would ever be again. His eyes travelled up to the teachers table where his husband sat next to a dour-looking Severus and Dumbledore.

Harry knew that both of the dark-haired men were very unhappy with this arrangement.

Tom, because he had to sit next to the headmaster, which he had predicted would drive him to homicide in the near future (Harry had dumped a bowl of yoghurt on his head in retaliation to his joke), but which he hadn't fought because he was convinced it was his right as a Dark Lord to sit at least in the middle of the table if not at the head.

And Severus, because he once again hadn't got the Defence post, though he had admitted to Harry that he had only ever wanted it to have some variety. Next to the Potion's Master sat Rudolphus and Rabastan and Harry could see that they were a bit nervous.

Harry could totally relate to them when he caught sight of two certain red-heads and a bushy-haired witch, sitting in the centre of the Gryffindor table, talking animatedly, not bothering to lower their voices and drawing a larger and larger public. Harry straightened his back, his eyes narrowing slightly as he walked towards the main group. He had no intention to spent another year with people talking behind his back- offence seemed like the best means of defence in this case.

"Sprouting lies again, I see", he lifted one eyebrow mockingly at Hermione, who seemed to be the ringleader, "Wouldn't the information be more reliable, if you asked the objects of your discussion yourself?"

"Oh, Harry", Parvati squealed, batting her overly elongated lashes at him, "How is it? Does he treat you well? Do you love him? Is he good in bed? Do you know those three good-looking men up at the teacher's table? Do you have another lover at the side? Have you always been gay?..."

"Okay. Yes. No. No-one to compare it to. Yes. No and no", Harry smirked at everyone's baffled face, "I guess that answers your questions. Now if you'll excuse me, I would like to watch the sorting. And please, be so kind as to refrain from anymore discussions about myself."

"But, Harry", Lavender pouted as she thought cutely, "That was a bit fast and short..."

"I'll be in the common room tonight", Harry waved her away, "I'll answer some things then, but don't expect me to share everything with you..."

He took his seat next to Neville and across from Dean and Seamus, ignoring the Irish boy's attempts to get some more answers.

Soon Professor McGonagall entered through the huge double doors followed by a row of frightened looking first-years. Harry smiled at a girl who tripped over her own feet near the Gryffindor table, which caused her to give a startled squeak and her face to turn crimson. She went to Hufflepuff. After the sorting Dumbledore stood up and Harry noticed to his horror that the old wizard had pink bows in his beard.

"Welcome and welcome back to all students and of course to our dear teachers", Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily; Severus sneered at anyone who had the misfortune to meet his eyes, "I'm happy to introduce you to your new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Tom Riddle. Stand up, Tom.", there was a round of polite applause and some dreamy sounds from the majority of the female population as Tom stood up and smirked down at the mass of students, which only reinforced Harry's assumption that no-one knew the real identity of the new teacher, "Yes, yes, I'm sure you'll have a wonderful teacher. You can sit back down, Tom."

"Of course, I can, Dumbledore", Tom looked down at the elder wizard, "But the question is: Do I want to?", whispers broke out all over the hall and Harry was sure that some of them were about the sexiness of Tom's voice rather than his disrespect for the headmaster, "I don't think that you're in any position to order me around, old man."

"My dear boy,...", Dumbledore began in a patronising tone, but the Dark Lord's eyes were focused on his husband, who had stood up: "Tom, what are you doing? Do you really want to stand throughout the whole meal? Please, sit down."

"Of course, Harry", Voldemort smiled pleasantly, "All you had to do was ask."

"Yes, thank you, Harry", Dumbledore only received a cold stare in return, "Why don't you take a seat?"

"Because, I'm not hungry", Harry pushed his chair back, "And I already know the contents of your announcements. I don't see the point in staying here any longer."

"I'm afraid, you'll still have to keep us company. The welcoming feast is obligatory", Dumbledore's blue eyes seemed to give Morse signs, "And you don't know where your new rooms are."

"You're ill informed, Professor", Harry returned, "Enjoy your meal!", he silently swept out of the room- the tension was just too much.

It wasn't only that Dumbledore's behaviour had annoyed him greatly- he had treated Tom like he was his little puppy and Harry as if he wanted to say that he had trained him well- but all the stares he could still feel lingering on his form, especially his scar, and the whispers wandering between the students, spreading what they thought universal truths. And although he didn't blame Tom for reacting none too kindly to Dumbledore's words, the looks he received after their little interaction- it just was too much for him to cope on the first day back.

He curled up in the same corner as after the wedding, trying to convince himself that he didn't care about what others said, that it was alright for them to hate him or laugh at him. He tried to remind himself that there were always some people thinking differently and that it was impossible to be hated by everyone, like he had told Tanea, who had been sorted into Ravenclaw, like he had suspected she would, and whom he had seen talking animatedly with a black girl with dread locks and teeth so white you were almost blinded by them. Harry thought her name to be Ashley or Amy, but he wasn't sure.

There was a sudden increase in volume and he was sure that Dumbledore finally had sat back down and that the food had appeared. Draco was certainly angry with him for skipping a meal, Harry mused. The blond had made sure that he ate at least more than usual during the holidays, but Harry wasn't sure if it had helped much. His body was still much too thin and he weighed too little, making each of his rips stand out. He didn't know how Tom could even stand to touch him- a small, pale, malnourished boy- but Tom had never complained and even gone so far as to compliment his supposed beauty. It was most likely his kind of humour to mock him indirectly. Of course Tom didn't like him, Draco had been wrong...

Meanwhile, behind the large double doors, everyone was more or less enjoying his or her meal. Hermione and the Weasleys had once again seized the opportunity to badmouth their once best-friend, though they were a bit miffed when they found a much smaller audience this time since Parvati and Lavender had chosen to start their own little discussion about the relationship between the boy-who-lived and the handsome Defence teacher, going more and more into the direction of lovers since that surely was the most promising well for their teenage fantasies.

And of course there was the matter of the Lestranges. Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Neville obviously knew, what they had done and the first three made no secret about their deeds. So it had been all the more surprising when Neville had clapped loudly, when they had been introduced as Harry's teachers and now the chubby boy got too much attention for his own liking.

Harry didn't want his involvement known in the healing of his parents and so he couldn't very well tell everyone what exactly had happened. But the joy of his parents' recovery made it hard for him to not shout it all out. Sure, it was awkward to live with two literal stranger, but since it was awkward for all of them, it was somehow easier and so far he really liked the people his parents were.

He found himself more like his mother in most every way, with her love for plants, her ready smile, her shyness and motherly qualities, but his father was great also and while his mother loved to talk and laugh a lot his father was quieter and much calmer, much like himself. They certainly weren't the perfect family, but for him it couldn't possibly be any better.

Dumbledore was trying to catch his eye, too, but Harry didn't trust him and Harry had a good knowledge of human nature, so he avoided the old man's gaze. He almost felt sorry when Dumbledore instead turned to the Lestranges and You-know-who, almost...

Tom was unhappy about his husband's disappearance, not that he blamed him, but he had had this great strategy how to observe Harry during the meal without him noticing anything and now not only was that not going to work out, no, but Harry had once again skipped dinner and he was pestered by the stupid old coot. As if it was his fault Harry had left, it certainly wasn't. He was pretty sure that Harry had intended to sit back down, when Dumbledore had had to open his mouth once again. He hoped that Harry had gone to the kitchens to eat- it wouldn't do to have him starve himself, it just wouldn't do!

Next to him Rudolphus and Rabastan felt much the same. Harry ought to be handled with care! They had learned it the hard way, Harry in his own way was much more delicate than his raw power suggested. And for whatever reason he seemed to like Dumbledore about as much as Bellatrix.

Finally the feast was over and Tom stood without further ado, brushing through the hordes of students, who blocked his way. Harry was waiting outside for him, smiling apologetically, looking extremely guilty when Tom pushed a slice of cake into his hands.

"I'm sorry", Harry looked at his feet, "I overreacted."

"It's fine", Tom moved closer, encircling Harry's narrow waist with both his hands, "Dumbledore's eyes stopped twinkling for over two minutes. It was quite refreshing", he swiftly dipped his head and captured Harry's lips, deepening the kiss almost immediately, playfully tugging on Harry's tongue, allowing Harry to enter his mouth, "Either you eat your cake right now or I'm going to kiss you until you do- both will suit me just fine", he smirked down at his younger husband, who was panting heavily, but obediently began to eat his cake.

"Harry!", two dark heads swivelled around to focus on Parvati and Lavender, "Are you and Professor Riddle an item? Does You-know-who know about this?"

"No, Miss Patil, is it?", Tom asked, "The Dark Lord doesn't know about us and he mustn't ever find out, I rely on your secrecy on this..."

"Of course", the black-haired girl assured him at once, "This is so romantic. Harry, you have to tell us all about you. We expect you in the common room."

The two girls latched onto each other's arms, whispering and giggling excitedly as they walked away.

"I thought you would tell everyone who you are", Harry mused as they waited for the two Lestranges, who slowly walked towards them, "Why didn't you?"

"I'm waiting for classes", the Dark Lord smirked, "This way I can watch their reactions separately. It should be fun."

"Figures", Harry said, "So you want me to keep the identity of my little affair a secret in order for you to have more fun? That really is not fair."

"Suits you right for kissing strangers in the hallways", Tom kissed Harry once again to prove his point, not noticing the shocked looks from Rudolphus, Rabastan and Dumbledore.

/Great, now everyone thinks I'm cheating on you/, Harry hissed when his lips were released/As if my reputation wasn't bad enough. Now Rabastan and Rudolphus think that you're angry with me./

Tom only smirked harder at Harry's reproachful look/I told you I didn't like sharing!/

Harry growled dangerously, and as Tom thought quite cutely, at him before he turned to the Lestrange brothers: "It's not how it seems and it certainly isn't my fault."

"Oh, I'm sure about it", Dumbledore grinned delightedly at him and Harry wasn't sure, if he just found it amusing or that he really thought Harry was being unfaithful, "But I'm sure you wouldn't mind clearing up the little misunderstanding, after all the contract was quite clear on that point."

"And what right would you have to be informed about what I do or don't do?", Harry asked mockingly, "You gave away all control you ever had over me, Headmaster, by bargaining me off- I don't think that I owe you an explanation."

"Harry, I understand that you are a bit bitter about this..."

"A bit bitter?", Harry asked incredulously, "When I found out that the Chudley Cannons had once again failed to shoot a single goal against the Falmouth Falcons and that I would have to listen to Ron's nagging for weeks on end, I might have been a bit bitter, but that term doesn't nearly cover what I'm feeling now."

"You chose to do this, Harry", Dumbledore returned in a sad-reproachful voice, as if Harry was doing him immensely wrong, "It's unjust to blame it on me now, don't you think?"

"Enough, Dumbledore", Tom hissed dangerously when he felt Harry retreat into himself, "You know as good as I that Harry had no real choice and that he has every right to blame you or me for it. But Harry is my charge now and you have no right to demand explanations of him if they don't directly relate to his schooling, so you will just have to deal with the new situation because I have no intention to bear with you any longer. If I feel that Harry isn't absolutely happy with the way things are, I will take him out of Hogwarts immediately... Now, if you would give us directions to our rooms?", he had his arm securely around Harry's waist, who was half hiding his face in his robes, but didn't protest.

"I'll just show you", Dumbledore said more coldly.

"Fine, Rudolphus, Rabastan, you stay with Harry", Tom ordered, gently pushing Harry towards the brown-eyed men, who hugged him protectively, "I'll fetch you as soon as I know the location of our rooms."

Dumbledore was about to protest again when he saw Harry's calm expression and Voldemort's menacing one and realised that he had lost this round and he silently marched into one of the deserted corridors- the students had long since went to their common rooms.

/I'll be back soon/, Voldemort hissed softly/Don't be angry with me, please?/

/I'm not/, Harry smiled tenderly up at him/Thank you, Tom. Would you mind if we went down to the kitchens? I'm quite hungry./

Tom shook his head before he followed the headmaster.

"Tom said we could go to the kitchens", Harry informed them and they nodded approvingly taking their positions right and left of him, "I'm sorry I lost my temper, I didn't mean to leave you alone."

"It's fine", Rudolphus reassured him, smiling slightly at his guilty expression, "We're already big boys."

They both smirked down at him, walking just that little bit straighter that emphasised their height, and Harry swatted their arms playfully: "I know you are. I just wanted to be there for you. How did everyone react?"

"We didn't get such a warm welcome as the Dark Lord, but after the Longbottom kid started to clap for us most of the others joined", Rabastan told him as they entered the corridor with the many paintings of food, "And of course most of the Slytherins did as well."

Harry sighed relievedly and tickled the pear, which transformed into a door handle, and walked through the now evident door, almost immediately being swarmed by a troop of house-elves under the lead of Dobby, who all offered him something to eat or to drink.

"Could I have some milk and cookies, please?", the house-elves nodded enthusiastically and moments later he was manoeuvred into one of the chairs and a plate of cookies and a big glass of milk was placed in front of him. Harry returned the many toothy smiles as best as he could and tugged on Rudolphus' sleeve to make him sit down next to him, giving Rabastan a significant look to do the same, "So you don't regret coming here, do you?", he asked them nervously.

"No, Harry", Rabastan put an arm around Harry's small shoulders, "Don't think so lowly of us."

"I don't think lowly of you", Harry said indignantly, "Why would you say something like this?"

"Because you always seem to protect us, although it should be the other way round", Rudolphus supplied, "We won't back off just because people don't consider us the best company to be around their children and we won't leave you in favour of our own well-being. You have to give us a chance to prove ourselves to you, not the other way round, you're the good one among us."

"Now, who is thinking lowly of whom?", Harry teased, "I'm sorry, I'm getting on your nerves, I didn't mean to..."

"We'll never tire of having you worried about us", Rabastan also put an arm around the small shoulders, "That's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for us in a long time, but let us also be worried about you, okay? Harry, when have you slept last?"

Harry scrunched his face up in thought while he drank the last of his milk, almost choking on the cookie crumbles that had dropped into it: "Thursday? I think it was Thursday. But I'm fine."

The brothers scowled at him darkly: "You should sleep more. No wonder you're so edgy", Rabastan chuckled at Harry's indignant look, "Not that we blame you for telling off Dumbledore, of course, it was actually quite amusing."

"I'll sleep tonight, I promise", Harry mumbled, playing with one of the cookies, "But don't start complaining when I'm not in a good mood tomorrow."

"Has the Dark Lord anything to do with your refusal to sleep, Harry?", Rudolphus pried Harry's hands away from the poor cookie, "Doesn't he treat you right?"

"No, Tom's great", Harry reassured them, "I just don't want him to know."

Voldemort had stood at the door during the last part of the conversation and though he didn't know what prompted the Lestranges to be so worried about his Harry he was more glad about it than angry. And Harry thought he was great, if that wasn't a heart-warming notion...

"Hey", he stepped into the kitchen, "Ready to go, little one? Did you eat something?"

Harry smiled at him and nodded, offering his last cookie to the Dark Lord, who was so surprised by that action that he actually took it, but then quickly regained his composure and led them to their new rooms, Harry's hand securely in his, the small fingers wrapped tightly around two of his.

Dumbledore had given them all rooms on the fourth floor and on the east side, on what he probably deemed neutral ground between Slytherin and Gryffindor area. He hadn't really looked into either of them, but had dismissed Dumbledore, telling him that it was fine and had hastened back to his husband, although he knew him in safe hands. He showed the two brothers their rooms first, which were linked by a common room, watching silently as Harry kissed both of them good-night, before he walked them to their rooms.

The door was hidden like the one that led to Diagon Alley with bricks that moved away if you told them the password. At the moment it was "Green Peace" (he wondered if Dumbledore actually was aware of the Muggle nature conservation organisation or if it was some obscure reference to the armistice between the Light and the Dark), but he would change it as soon as possible to one in Parseltongue to make sure Dumbledore couldn't intrude on them.

Maybe he should have taken a closer look, he realised, when the stones made room for them to pass and revealed the interior of their new quarters. It was so nasty that it was almost laughable, at least Harry seemed to think so because he shook with suppressed laughter, clutching his sides and staring with wide eyes at the myriad of colours displayed in the decorating. Instead of torturing his eyes anymore he decided to watch his beautiful husband, whose eyes welled over with tears of joy. It was the most breath-taking sight he could imagine.

Harry finally got himself back under control, looking up through teary eyes and saying in a deadpan voice: "Well, I'll be gone now. I suggest you do some redecorating, because I'm not staying in a room that looks like the decorator has been colour-blind."

He kissed Tom's nose teasingly, squirming out of the embrace before the older man could deepen the kiss like he had intended and jogged in the direction of the Gryffindor tower, leaving Tom to deal with the problem.

And a problem it was. Whoever had done the decorating- he could hazard a fairly good guess as to who was responsible for this mess- had most likely attempted to bring some symbolic value into the colouring and had mainly used green and silver and red and gold, but had also not shied away from using different kinds of blues, pinks, oranges and pastel colours. All this thrown together looked like the work of a toddler, although Tom was pretty sure that even a toddler would have done better. He had the insistent urge to puke, but was afraid the bathroom would look much the same and so instead vanished all the colours with a simple wand movement, turning his environment into a dull kind of grey.

He could make out the other aspects of the room now for the first time: He knew from the location that their rooms were situated in one of the smaller towers and through the seven windows fell little light from the waning moon, illuminating the staircase to his left, which led to their bedchamber and two now grey large desks next to each other, with two grey bookshelves filled with some general books besides them and grey, comfy-looking armchairs in front of them. There was a low coffee table in between a sofa and three grey beanbags, Tom was sure Harry would love, as well as the rocking chair that stood near one of the windows. There was another door to the right, leading to a small kitchenette.

He sighed exasperatedly, although the room looked decidedly better, Harry wouldn't approve of the greyness and so he started to colour everything more tastefully. He restored the natural brown of the wooden furniture, changed the plush carpet into a dark Slytherin green after unsuccessfully trying to match the colour of Harry's eyes and the armchairs and the sofa into black and finally turned the beanbags into different shades of blue, trying to lessen the general Slytherin look of the room. Thinking that the stone walls looked to bare and cold he conjured up some green drapings, deciding that he would hang up some paintings later, and put white blankets with silver edges on the armchairs, the rocking chair and one over the back of the sofa. Satisfied with his work he addressed himself to the kitchenette, the bathroom and the bedroom, decorating it in much the same way as the one in Slytherin Castle and then settled himself into one of the armchairs checking his schedule for one last time, all the while wishing that Harry was there, too.

When Harry entered the common room everyone seemed to be assembled and waiting for him, which made him really uncomfortable. Even Hermione and the two remaining Weasleys were there, although they did everything to look uninterested. He sat down in one of the chairs calmly his face not betraying anything of what he felt and waited for the question firing to start- he didn't have to wait long...

Two hours later Harry dropped onto his bed unceremoniously, sighing relievedly. He had tried to answer all the questions truthfully, except the ones that concerned his sex-life or the secrets of one of the Death Eaters or Voldemort. Neville was already snoring in his bed, Seamus and Dean, who had helped interrogating him, were changing into their pyjamas and Ron was staring at him, so nothing unusual. He pulled the little knapsack he had packed that morning out from under his bed and, gathering his own pyjamas and his toothbrush in his arms, disappeared in the bathroom in order to get ready for the night.

"Hey, Harry", Seamus called from his bed, when he returned from the bathroom, "Just wanted to tell you thank you for all you did for us with this contract."

"Me too", Dean added from the next bed, "That was a pretty decent thing to do."

Ron snorted loudly, drawing everyone's attention: "Decent? Potter is whoring himself out to the Death Eaters! Yeah, that's pretty decent! Probably learned already how to suck your masters' cocks, didn't you? Oh, I forgot you likely knew that already, right, Potter?"

"Shut up, Ron", Harry said coldly, "I don't have to take this shit from you. Grow up already. Thanks Dean, thanks Seamus. It means a lot to me. Good night everyone."

He really had intended to stay the night in Gryffindor Tower, but Ron's eyes had been an unpleasant reminder of that one forced kiss and he was utterly afraid what Ron would do to him if he found him defenceless. He couldn't stay, not tonight at least. He grabbed his knapsack and quickly left the dorm, passing the common room before anyone could notice him and walked through the portrait hole. Normally, he would just have went into the Forbidden Forest or the library, but he had promised to sleep tonight and since he simply couldn't when Tom had his arms around him, he found himself in front of the Lestranges' rooms, knocking shyly.

"Harry", Rabastan had opened the door forcefully just to find the small boy standing in front of it in his pyjamas, "Is something wrong?"

"Can I sleep here, please?", Harry whispered, "I really thought I could sleep in the same dorm as Ron, but I just can't."

"Come in", Rabastan ushered the delicate Gryffindor into their redecorated living room, "It's Harry!", he called to his brother who entered moments later from the bathroom, his hair still dripping wet and only a towel slung around his hips.

"What happened?", Rudolphus asked concerned, noticing the way Harry was chewing his bottom lip.

"I can't sleep with Ron in the same room and I can't sleep with Tom's arm around me and... I promised to you that I would sleep", Harry rambled nervously, looking up through dark lashes, "Uh, Rudolphus, could you maybe get dressed?"

"Oh, sorry about that", Rudolphus said, becoming aware of his state of almost undress and disappeared back into the bathroom.

"Of course, you can stay here, Harry", Rabastan said to Harry, who looked totally lost in his too big pyjamas, standing near the door, "You can have my room and I'll keep watch over you, okay?"

"I don't want you to stay awake because of me", Harry mumbled, "And I don't want to eject you from your room. I can sleep on the sofa."

"No way, Harry", Rudolphus had reappeared again, "You are our guest. One of us will sleep there, if you really don't want us to keep an eye on you."

"It's much too small for you", Harry protested, "I'll fit on it easily. And I really don't want you to stay awake."

"Fine", Rabastan sighed, "I see your point, but I'll come check on you every once in a while and don't you dare putting up silencing spells around you."

Harry blushed uncomfortable since that had been exactly his plan, but nodded.

"You want a hot chocolate before you go to sleep?", Rudolphus asked gently, while he and Rabastan set up Harry's sleeping accommodation.

"No, I already brushed my teeth", Harry murmured and extracted Lami from his knapsack, pressing him against his chest, "I'm sorry, I'm troubling you."

"It's no trouble", the brothers chorused, making Harry chuckle softly, before they tucked him in, each kissing his forehead lightly, "Sleep tight. And if you need anything, just ask, okay?"

"Okay", Harry smiled, "Thank you."

The older two men went into their own rooms, each leaving the door slightly ajar. Harry closed his eyes, deciding it would be best to get it over with. It wasn't long before he was caught up in another nightmare of Tom's first reign, though as far as he could tell those had decreased lately- maybe he was finally through with all the memories- and had been substituted by his own memories, which wasn't better at all. Approximately two hours later he woke up, to find two pairs of concerned brown eyes watching him silently. He shied away when Rabastan made to hug him whimpering softly. His whole body ached and his eyes burned from all the tears. _No, please stop, they don't deserve this, I'm sorry, no please, no more_. After a while he just curled up again and closed his eyes, intend to get some more sleep, he felt the brothers kiss his forehead once again, before they went back to their own rooms. None of them had commented on what had happened.

The next time he woke after having relived one of his own memories his reaction to their proximity was much more violent and he fell of the sofa in an attempt to hide from them. It took him nearly two hours to finally calm down enough to crawl into Rudolphus' lap and to sob his heart out against his chest.

"Shh, Harry", they constantly repeated, "No one will harm you here. It'll be okay."

Rabastan made them all some camomile tea and cradled Harry in his arms when his brother's legs threatened to cramp.

"Do you think, I'm a whore?", Harry asked quite suddenly, looking up at them for the first time.

"No, why would we think something like that?", the younger brother asked and his brother nodded affirmatively, rubbing Harry's arms.

"Maybe because it's true", Harry murmured more to himself than the other wizards.

"Do you think, I'm a whore?", Rudolphus asked, "Because if you are one I'm one, too. I agreed to marry Bellatrix in order to spruce the family's reputation. Your motives to marry the Dark Lord were certainly much more honourable than mine."

"Did someone say that you are a whore, Harry?", Rabastan asked when the small boy only mutely shook his head, "They better watch their mouths before we decide that a fist would look good in there."

"It's what everyone thinks", Harry mumbled, "Even Draco thinks so."  
"I'm pretty sure that none of the Malfoys thinks of you like that", the older of the two replied, "Why else would they mess around with you?"

"I'm their little charity case", Harry said bitterly, "I can feel their pity every time they look at me. Hell, I can feel your pity. But I don't need it! I don't need pity and I don't want it."

"Do you really think that, Harry?", Rabastan asked quietly, "That we only see you as our charity project? Because then you're wrong. We like you and so do the Malfoys and Severus and the Dark Lord. We like you because you make us laugh and because you are much stronger than you give yourself credit for and because you care and because you are nice and smart and don't make us feel like we're bad people. We like you because you give us a reason to like ourselves and because you sometimes have weird ideas and because your enthusiasm is contagious. Yes, I admit it, I pity you, because you have to go through so much and because you look after others first and because I don't know how I could possibly help you. If that bothers you, I'm sorry, but I can't change what I feel."

"I'm sorry", Harry sniffed, "I didn't mean to make you angry."

"I'm not angry", Rabastan laughed, hugging the small boy, "For an empath you can't tell what others feel very well!"

"You sound a lot like Simon", the black-haired boy gave back, "He says that all the time."

"Well, if so many people tell you that they care for you, the chances are high that they really do", Rudolphus added, "Can you deal with our pity, Harry?"

"I will have to try because I don't want to lose you as my friends", Harry said unsurely, "But I don't like it."

"Maybe if you told us more about yourself and your life...", Rabastan suggested cautiously, "Then we could help you better and then we wouldn't pity you so much."

"Nice try", chuckled Harry weakly, "Really, but no. I don't need your help and if I should need it sometime I'll just ask."

"Okay, Harry", the older men laughed, too, "We're always at your service."

"Can we ask you only one question?", Rabastan asked and Harry nodded: "I might not answer."

"When you have those nightmares, do you feel everything or only what you feel", the brown-haired wizard demanded, "Is your empathy the reason, your nightmares are so much worse than is normal."

"Yes, I do feel everyone's feelings in my dreams, because my shields seem to just crumble once I'm asleep", Harry shivered, hugging his legs to his chest and rocking slowly, "I can't sleep anymore to night, please, don't make me."

"I don't believe that we are in any position to give you orders, if you don't even obey the Dark Lord", Rudolphus smiled teasingly at Harry, who returned the smile, before he suddenly pressed his eyes shut, gasping softly.

His stomach had cramped up for some reason and now he felt a stinging pain that spread from in between his thighs up to his chest, where it caused bile to rise in his throat. Harry cursed lowly, before he had to hold a hand to his mouth and ran to pray to the porcelain god.

"Harry, are you alright?", the two brothers had appeared at the open door, looking worried, but Harry, who hung over the toilette and heaved up everything in his stomach, waved his hand and the door closed in front of their surprised faces.

He hadn't felt this miserable in a long time. His whole body trembled from the suppressed urge to let out a blood-curling scream and he was sure he was as pale as Nearly Headless Nick. The sight of his vomit made him even more nauseous and he would have continued throwing up, if there had been anything left to throw up. Instead he sank to the floor, whimpering painfully, and curled up on the midnight blue plush carpet while tears streamed down his face. Gradually the pain subsided and he could breath normally again and noticed the persistent knocking on the door and the subdued callings of his name. He carefully got up, swaying and his vision blackening for a moment.

"Are you okay, Harry?", Rudolphus asked worriedly, "Merlin, you're white as a sheet!"

"I don't know", Harry whispered, "Something doesn't feel right."

"Come on, lay down", Rabastan half carried him back to the sofa and tucked him in under the blanket, "You're shivering!"

Rudolphus cast a warming spell before he sat down on the edge of the sofa next to his brother and asked: "Do you want a Pain-killing Potion? I have one here."

Harry just nodded, crystal tears rolling down his cheeks and clenched his hands into fists.

The older brother disappeared into the bathroom to fetch the potion while Rabastan brushed away his tears and patted his hair, receiving a painful smile in return. The two helped him to sit up slightly so that he could swallow the potion more easily and Harry leaned against them heavily, clutching his hands into their pyjamas. After a while Harry relaxed and breathed more deeply.

"Can you just hold me for a while?", he mumbled shyly, "Please?"

"Of course", they agreed shifting into more comfortable positions with Harry lying between and half on top of them: "Are you sure you don't want one of us to go and fetch Madam Pomfrey?", Rudolphus asked, rubbing Harry's back.

"She's still visiting her sister", Harry mumbled, "She'll come back somewhen tomorrow. Besides, I feel much better now. You don't have to stay awake with me..."

"But we want to", the younger brown-haired man said gently, "Though I'm afraid the Dark Lord would kill us if he walked through that door right now."

"I wouldn't allow it, don't worry", Harry smiled peacefully, "You're only trying to help me."

"Apropos help", Rudolphus asked, "Can we do anything for you?"

"Will you tell me a story?", the small boy asked timidly, "Something about you?"

"Let us think about something suitable."

They finally agreed to tell the petite boy different stories about their school time, mainly about Rabastan's first and Rudolphus' third year when Rudolphus showed his younger brother around and protected him from mean poltergeists, obsessed Ravenclaws, tricky trap steps and hostile Gryffindors, though Rabastan assured him that he hadn't needed the help and that his brother was only showing off, while Harry laughed till his sides hurt.

"Thanks, I needed that", he said still chuckling and got up, careful not to hurt the two brothers, "But you really should go back to sleep. And I'll go outside."

"But it looks like there's a storm out there", Rabastan protested, but Harry just pushed them to their respective bedchambers: "That's exactly the point. Don't worry, I'll be fine. See, you at breakfast."

"At least, take one of our cloaks", Rudolphus sighed motioning to where to black robes hung, "Else you'll freeze to death."

"Oh, hogwash", Harry laughed at them, "I'll only get wet and that's all. Now, hush, catch some sleep."

The two brothers grumbled something unintelligible, but went back to their own rooms and closed the door, leaving a delighted Harry the privacy to change into his normal clothes minus his school robes, before he practically ran out into the rain, feeling the big drops splashing against his skin, hiding the tears he cried, for his family, for Sirius, for Tom, for his friends and for himself- everyone he would disappoint should they find out who he really was- and dampening all the stray feelings that were drawn towards him like a compass needle towards the north pole. He's stomach still churned uncomfortably, as if his body was protesting against the potion.

* * *

**You have lots to tell me, right? So what are you waiting for... Oh, yes, I forgot: Ready? Steady? Review!**


	31. Rainy Breakfast

**Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling owes all those wonderful characters.**

**Author's Note:Okay, this chappie is rather short, but to compensate for that it's posted earlier than usual! Yay!

* * *

**

**31. RAINY BREAKFAST**

It was already quarter past eight and everyone who had the misfortune to have to get up for the first lesson of the day was already up and eating his or her breakfast in the Great Hall. Draco sat at the Slytherin table, surrounded by his friends, and was diligently preparing Harry's breakfast, who had the audacity to not have shown up and apologised repeatedly for skipping dinner last night. That boy really needed to change his priorities!

Tom at the same time at the head table had similar thoughts also concerning his missing husband. Rudolphus and Rabastan had informed him that Harry had spent the night with them, and- he was rather proud of himself- he hadn't lost his temper and had just told them that it was fine. Naturally, it wasn't fine, though he had no real reason to dislike the notion so much- besides the obvious ones- but he doubted very much that it was anyone's fault. The two Death Eaters hadn't been able to resist Harry's pleas, something that he wasn't very good at either and well, Harry hadn't wanted to stay the night with some pubescent Gryffindors, something he could relate to absolutely. Still, Harry should be eating breakfast by now and not gazing at the clouds or whatever it was he did when it rained. Harry got really weird when it rained, happy, adorable, but definitely weird.

The double doors burst open and a beaming black-haired boy with laughing green eyes walked through them, leaving a trail of rain water in his leave. Harry smiled at everyone who stared flabbergastedly at him shaking his head like a wet dog, not minding the wet strands that clung to his cheeks and the rest that stuck up even wilder than usual. His clothes were totally soaked and accordingly heavy, but Harry couldn't care less and sauntered over to where Draco sat with his friends.

"Good morning", Harry smiled at the Slytherins, kissing Draco and dripping water on his immaculate cloak.

"Yuck, Harry", Draco freed himself from the light embrace, scowling darkly at the younger boy, "You did that on purpose!"

"Of course, Draco", Harry patted his hair, "Whatever you say. See you later", he winked at Blaise, who was trying hard not to laugh out loud, and climbed the three steps that separated the students from the teachers table.

"Morning, Rudolphus", he kissed the brown-haired man on the cheek, "Morning, Rabastan", he repeated the action, "Did you sleep well?"

They nodded mutely, giving Harry the once-over, which he allowed smirking slightly: "You look good."

"Why, thank you, Rabastan", the green-eyed boy returned, "I feel good as well", he turned to Tom, who had watched the whole scene in silence, "Good morning, Tom."

"Good morning/precious/", Tom pulled Harry a little closer, trapping him between himself and Severus, "I take it you slept well?"

"I stayed at Rudolphus' and Rabastan's room", Harry said, tensing up, preparing himself to protect the two older wizards, "I'm sorry, I didn't tell you earlier."

"It's fine", he smiled slightly, "They already told me, don't worry."

Once again a smile spread over Harry's face as he ducked his head to kiss Tom's cheek, pressing a small folded piece of paper into Severus' hand.

"Harry", Dumbledore just had to meddle once more, didn't he? No, he didn't, but he did so anyway, "Students are not supposed to kiss their teachers, I don't want this to happen again. I'm sure you understand."

"No, enlighten me, will you, Headmaster?", Harry turned around, half sitting on the arm of Tom's chair, "Why exactly am I not allowed to kiss my **husband**?", the last word was barely more than a hiss.

"I doesn't set a good example for the other students..."

"They can elect someone else to be their good example. "

"It shows disrespect for your professors..."

"I don't hear them complaining."

"It undermines the authority of the teachers..."

"I doubt very much that Tom will have a problem with that, will you, Tom?", Harry asked, half turning around.

"I agree", Voldemort answered, "And now, Dumbledore I would appreciate it, if you could shut up so that everyone may enjoy their breakfast. I think it's enough you kept Harry from his meal last night. I won't repeat myself."

"Mr. Potter", McGonagall interrupted the strained silence, "Since you're already up here you might as well have your timetable now. And Mr. Potter, I fully expect Gryffindor to win both the Quidditch and the House Cup... Don't disappoint me!"

"But, Professor", Harry winked at her, "Who else could possible win them?"

"It might have escaped your notice, Potter", Severus sneered, "but there are three other houses in Hogwarts."

"No, really, Professor?", Harry teased lightly with his eyes as wide as saucers, "Would that be the reason why there are four house tables? I always wondered about that, but now that I think about it, it kind of makes sense. What was your house again? Something small and insignificant... Something with 's' right? Was it 'Smudgies'?..."

"Potter, if this is a check for my patience. I have none", Severus growled dangerously, "Go, bother someone else."

/You wanted to go visit Madam Pomfrey, Tom reminded him gently/Why don't you ask her now? And, sweetie, don't ever call me a Smudgy or small and insignificant again./

"Of course, Tom", Harry smiled and squirmed out of the half embrace before Tom could kiss him like he had planned to, "Ah, ah, ah, keep it down, Tom, wouldn't want to blow your cover, would you?", he sauntered over to the other end of the table, where the school nurse was enjoying her breakfast, happily chatting with the Herbology teacher, while Severus unfolded the short message Harry had scribbled for him:

_Rise and shine, Severus (consider yourself kissed), lots to do today: frighten the poor little firsties, torture the poor Gryffindors, favour the lucky Slytherins and try not to inhale toxic gases._

_Have a nice day, favourite Potion's Master of mine, Harry._

He couldn't help but let out a snort of amusement, which alerted the Dark Lord to the paper and he inconspicuously passed it over, whereupon Voldemort gave a snort as well, handing it back.

At the same time Harry made an appointment with Madam Pomfrey during his lunch break after having assured her that it was nothing really bad and then left to finally have his breakfast.

"You forgot something", Draco's hand on his arm made him swivel around, "Don't expect me to run after you every morning. Here", he shoved the full plate in Harry's hands, "You'll eat that, no excuses."

"My, aren't we grumpy today", Harry teased him, pecking his cheek "See you later, Blondie."

"You're really annoying when you are in a good mood", Draco scoffed, but made sure that Harry knew, he was only joking, "I think in the future I'm going to avoid you."

"Oh, but you would miss me, wouldn't you?", Harry happily munched on his first roll, "I certainly would."

He turned around not waiting for an answer and plopped down in the seat next to Seamus since Neville was sitting at the Ravenclaw table with Luna.

"What was that, Harry", the Irish boy asked curiously, "Since when are Malfoy and you all chummy?"

"Since he's being nice to me", Harry shrugged, "We've spent most of the holidays together."

"Are you together?", Seamus demanded, "I thought Riddle was your lover."

"No, of course not, whatever gave you that idea? We're friends", Harry protested indignantly.

"Well, you kissed him", Dean butted in, "It didn't look all that platonic. And where did you stay the night?"

"On the cheek. I kissed him on the cheek", Harry argued, "I kissed Rudolphus and Rabastan and Tom, too. And I spent the night with the Lestranges."

Lavender spoke up: "That's it, you didn't treat your lover any different than your _friends. _And you kissed none of us."

"That is exactly the point of a secret affair", the black-haired boy growled in annoyance, "No-one is supposed to know of it. I can't go around and kiss my lover in front of the whole school and several Death Eaters. What do you think would happen if Voldemort ever found out that I cheated on him?"

"He wouldn't like it", the Dark Lord's rich voice supplied into the embarrassed silence, "Harry, come with me. You have to get changed before your first lesson."

"You so owe me for this", Harry growled once they were out of the Hall and everyone's hearing range, "I hate lying and now everyone thinks that I cheat on you."

"Is it my fault they come to false conclusions?", Tom replied impishly, before he forcefully tugged on Harry's arm and pressed him against the nearest wall ravishing his mouth thoroughly.

"Yes, it is!", Harry scowled once his lips were released.

"Oh, okay then", Voldemort smiled pleasedly, kissing his short husband once again, "You're so cute when you're angry."

"And you're insufferable when you think you're being funny", Harry frowned at the taller man, "Now, let me go."

"A bit bossy, are we, little one?", Tom said, but released the Gryffindor from his hold, "I'll promise I'll take all the blame okay, Harry?"

"You better do", the petite boy replied mostly pacified and chuckled lightly when Tom almost shyly took his hand, "Didn't you want to show me, how you redecorated your rooms?"

"No, I wanted to show you how I redecorated **our** rooms", Voldemort corrected, "Close your eyes", Harry did so obediently, grabbing Tom's hand a little tighter, "Okay", he manoeuvred Harry so that he stood in front of him, "Open them."

Harry blinked furiously, adjusting to the bright light from the many windows: "Wow."

"I'm glad you approve", the red-eyed man smirked, "Though if you want me to change something..."

"No, I like it", Harry turned around, "Much better than before."

"That's what I thought", Tom smirked, "Now let's get you dried up", he summoned a fluffy white towel from the bathroom and carefully started to ruffle the black hair with it, delighting in the small purr he received, "Go get changed. I'll pack your things", he gently pushed Harry towards their bedroom.

"Do you know what happened to Ron?", Harry asked curiously as Tom was walking him to the greenhouses, "He had a black eye and he really looked pale. So did Ginny and Hermione, when I think about it..."

Tom had to restrain himself from smirking triumphantly and rather evilly: "Oh, really? I didn't notice..."

"Tom...", Harry replied warningly, halting his steps, "What did you do?"

"I did nothing to your friends", Tom evaded, thinking that Harry would interpret his words wrongly- you hardly could call someone who insults you and makes you cry a friend.

He hadn't reckoned on Harry seeing right through his sentence: "Tom!"

"They shouldn't have attacked you yesterday on the train", Tom growled, "I won't let you be insulted by such pathetic little **things**."

"Did you hit Ron?", Harry asked incredulously.

"Of course not!", the red-eyed man protested, "My guess is that your other room mates tried to make him see their point- or maybe they just wanted to get rid of some stress."

"And what did you do, Tom?", Harry asked the third time with barely concealed anger.

"You know, Nagini felt a bit neglected", Tom smiled pleasedly, "I may have made a suggestion that she takes a certain route before going out hunting..."

"You let them be attacked by your snake?", Harry asked horrifiedly, "Please, tell me she didn't bite them."

"She didn't, Harry", Tom carefully pulled the resisting boy in his arms, "She only scared them a little and reinforced my point. There's no lasting damage- at least none that I caused."

"You will leave them be now."

"If they leave you alone, yes", Tom smiled appeasingly, "You have to stop seeing everything everyone throws as you as justified. They have no right to judge you and what they did called for punishment."

"I'm not like you."

"I know and I'm so glad about it", Tom cautiously pressed his lips to Harry's, drawing the small body closer to his own as he nibbled Harry's bottom lip, causing the younger man to mewled appreciatively, "I never want you to be like me, Harry."

"Then what do you want me to be?", Harry asked unsurely.

"I want you to be yourself. My sweet little Harry. My gorgeous husband, who tells me when I do something completely stupid", Tom kissed him again, before tugging him through the door out into the open.

**

* * *

**

**I have cookies and I'm willing to share if you share your opinion with me... Hurry up, they're really yummy!**


	32. News

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

**Author's Note: Ha! We finally learn what's wrong with Harrykins! Yay! Though most of you have already guessed why Harry is so sick, but hey, I think the characters have right, too, to know it. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews I got, you are great! And you make me happy! And I no longer have any cookies, but it was worth it.

* * *

**

**32. NEWS**

Harry comfortably sat on "his" bed in the infirmary while Madam Pomfrey ran several diagnostic spells over him, frowning more disapprovingly with every result.

"I can't find anything wrong besides the usual", she finally declared, "What were the symptoms again?"

"Nausea, dizziness, abdominal cramping, trembling, vomiting", Harry enumerated, "Sleeplessness, anorexia and headaches, but that's the usual."

"I wonder...", the nurse fingered her wand before she gripped it tighter and performed one more spell, after which a light golden hue surrounded Harry's belly, "Oh, my..."

"What is it?", Harry asked nervously, "Is it bad?"

"Oh, Harry, I don't know how to tell you. Maybe you should better sit down", the small boy was even more confused- he was already sitting and Madam Pomfrey only ever used his first name when she thought he couldn't hear her, "It may be difficult to understand, but in the Wizarding World, wizards that is, can... Wizards, who are in a homosexual relationship... They can get pregnant."

"I know that, but...", Harry's face crossed a look of first realisation and then horror, "I can't be pregnant, please, tell me I'm not."

"I'm sorry, Harry, but you are", the school nurse patted his hand consolingly, "You're about four weeks along."

"But, but,...", Harry sniffed to hold back the tears, "I can't be pregnant."

"Do you want me to leave you alone for a moment?", the small boy nodded absent-mindedly and the normally stern witch walked into her small office.

How could that happen? Why did it have to happen? He was only sixteen, he couldn't raise a child. No child deserved to have him as a father. That's why he had asked Tom to use some contraception... Tom! What did he do? The one time he had put his trust in someone he had been disappointed. He didn't even notice that he was crying.

"Are you okay, Mr. Potter", over half an hour had passed and by now lunch break was over, afternoon classes had started, "I found this book on male pregnancies for you. It's rather old, but there haven't been to many cases in the last few years. Do you want me to make the checks now or would you rather wait till everything has settled a little?"

"Could you just tell me which rules I have to follow so as not to endanger the child?", Harry said in a throaty voice, slightly hoarse from crying, "I need some time to come to terms with this."

"Of course", she smiled kindly down at her charge, "You should eat regularly, but that's what I have told you for several years now, so I'll content myself if you eat enough and with enough I mean, at least double of what you have eaten until now. You should avoid kicks or punches or curses towards your abdomen. You shouldn't drink any potions or inhale the vapours. I already wrote two notes to Professor Snape and your husband so that they can adapt their lesson plans. You need to watch your temper and avoid stressy situation, although I know that's a lot to ask. All in all if you look after yourself, it should be fine", she handed him two slips of paper, "I expect you in one week at the latest. And if you have anymore questions, I'm always there for you."

Harry nodded and slid to the floor, trying a small smile as he left the infirmary, but he knew he still looked horrible. He still had a bone to pick with a certain someone.

He forcefully knocked at the door to the Defence against the Dark Arts classroom, not waiting before he pushed it open in the same manner, marching towards the red-eyed wizard, who had previously enjoyed the shocked silence and frightened looks of the third year Ravenclaws after revealing his identity.

"Harry", he asked surprisedly and more than a little concerned when he saw the tear-stained face, "Is something wrong?"

"Yes", Harry hissed dangerously at him, "You are! Read this will you and then explain it to me."

He confusedly accepted the crumpled piece of paper, noting that it was written on an attestation paper and reading the few choice words twice before he looked up at his fuming husband. He could now understand that Harry was agitated.

/Harry, I didn't know you were a bearer.../

"I fucking told you and I asked you to do something so that this wouldn't happen", Harry's magic crackled around him like lightning.

/When did you tell me, Harry, the Dark Lord asked confusedly.

"Directly after our wedding and you bloody well agreed. If you were not going to do it you could have at least told me", Harry sneered.

/But... I can't remember you saying something like this, Tom tried to reason.

"'I'll take care of everything. Don't worry'", Harry aped him, "What was I supposed to think about that, huh? If you hadn't heard me, then why did you say that?"

/Shit,... I didn't understand you, I just thought you were nervous, Tom tried to embrace Harry as an offer of peace, but the younger wizard snarled at him, daring him to come any nearer/I'm sorry./

"Then why the fuck didn't you ask?", he had never heard the small boy curse so much, "I trusted you! You ruined my life."

/Shh, It's not that bad, if you don't want it, there's still time for an abortion, Tom hadn't foreseen Harry's reaction to his last sentence: The Gryffindor's magic had somehow manifested surrounding him with crackling blue flames and at his last words Harry almost sprung in his face and slapped him, leaving three angry red stripes, where his magic had burned him: "You will not murder anyone else from my family, Voldemort. You'll damn well take responsibility for that."

Before the Dark Lord could recover from the shock, Harry had stormed out of the classroom, banging the door shut- the Ravenclaws were even more frightened than before, but it didn't amuse Tom anymore.

"Mr. Potter, care to enlighten us why you chose to grace us with your presence half an hour after the lesson started?", Severus had a difficult time to continue speaking after he got a good look of Harry's red-rimmed eyes; Harry silently handed over the second paper, wiping away some of the tears, "Mr. Potter, if you would accompany me to my office? Mr. Malfoy, you're in charge."

He led Harry through the inconspicuous door behind his desk, shielding him from the nosy looks as best as he could.

"Oh, Harry", he gently wrapped his arms around the trembling boy after he had locked the door behind him, "Shh, we'll work something out. Shh, I'm sorry. Come, sit down."

Harry started to sob uncontrollably: "I don't want to be pregnant, Severus."

"Yes, I know", the Potion's Master rubbed Harry's back as he hoped soothingly, "We'll work something out. Shh, don't cry. It'll be fine."

"How could it possibly be fine, Severus", Harry sniffed, "How?"

"I don't know, but we'll find a way", Severus assured him, "Does the Dark Lord know about it."

"Why did he do that to me?", Harry's whole body trembled, "I trusted him."

"It's quite uncommon for a wizard to be fertile, Harry. No-one probably expected you to become pregnant..."

"I told him. I told him. Why didn't he listen to me?", Harry cried into his robes, "He doesn't want this child..."

"Do you want it, Harry?", he asked gently, sighing as Harry shook his head: "No, the poor child. To have such parents and then no-one wants it... But I can't just kill it, I can't, Severus."

"I'm sure you'll be a great father, Harry, I really do", Severus carded his long fingers through the wild locks, "You just need to get used to the idea to have child. Don't give up just yet, okay?"

"Okay", Harry sniffed.

"You can stay in here for the rest of the lesson", Severus offered, "Swelling Draught brewed by a horde of moron-like sixth-years isn't exactly safe. Do you want Draco to keep an eye on you?"

Harry nodded, reluctantly loosening the grip he had on the Potion's Master's robes, and curled up in the large armchair that stood near the fire.

Severus kissed the top of Harry's head lightly, something he had never in his life done before, and then stalked back into the classroom: "Mr. Malfoy, please be so kind and prevent Potter from blowing up my office. He has the instructions for the Calming Draught you are to brew", the young Malfoy heir mumbled displeasedly as it seemed, but gathered up his things hastily and disappeared in the office not before sending his godfather a worried look.

"Harry, Merlin, what is wrong?", the blond crouched down in front of the shivering boy, trying to decipher the look on his face.

"Everything", Harry cried, "I'm pregnant and Tom hates me and the child and I don't know what to do..."

Draco was at a loss for words for a moment and used that time to squeeze into the armchair besides Harry, pulling the smaller boy into his lap: "Hush, don't cry. Why would you care what Tom thinks about you, Harry? My family will always be there for you and any child of yours... Don't cry anymore, please? I'll look out for you, you don't have to worry about anything..."

"I don't want this child, either", Harry sobbed, "I don't want it, Draco, I'm sixteen, I can't take care of a child. And I can't abort it, it never did anything wrong, how could I possibly kill it?"

"You won't be alone, Harry", Draco hugged the delicate boy closer to himself, "I'll be there and Severus and my parents and your godfather and even the Dark Lord once he's got over his shock. He loves you, Harry, I really think, he does and he won't leave you alone with this."

"I'm afraid, I'm so afraid, Draco", Harry buried his head deeper in Draco's robes, "Why did it have to be me?"

"Because you're Harry Potter", Draco chuckled, brushing away the tears, "Didn't you say so yourself? Nothing is ever normal with you, so it is perfectly normal."

Harry sniffed pitifully, but tried to smile.

Meanwhile the first lesson of double Potions had ended and Tom was finally able to dismiss those annoying third-years. His cheek burned like hell and he was incredibly worried about Harry. He hadn't meant it like that! He just wanted to help! And who could possibly guess that Harry would tell him something like that the one time he hadn't really listened? He quickly walked through the hallways, weaving through all those annoying students, who mostly parted respectfully in front of him, and harshly knocked on the Lestranges' door.

"Mylord", Rudolphus looked quite surprised, when Voldemort with a bruised cheek knocked at their door, "Is something the matter?"

"Yes, obviously", Tom was in no mood for pleasantries, "You have to find Harry."

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened?", Rabastan had also appeared next to his brother.

Voldemort sighed: "At first, he thought that I tried to humiliate him, then I said something and he thought I just disrespected him, which was slightly better and then I made a huge mistake and now he thinks I'm a heartless bastard. It's not my place to tell you what exactly happened, but I believe he would like your support right now. So go find him."

He turned away before they could question him anymore and mentally prepared for his last class, unsuccessfully trying to get rid of the picture of Harry's tear-stained face in front of his eyes.

The Lestrange brothers needed over twenty minutes to finally locate Harry in the dungeons and just knocked on the Potion's classroom, not having the patience to work out a more subtle way.

"The door's open. If you expect me to make a deep bow and roll out the red carpet for you, you can wait a long time", Severus barked through the door, while he threw powdered unicorn hooves into Bones' potion just in time to prevent an explosion.

"Severus, have you seen Harry?", Rudolphus asked, staring intently at the other wizard.

"He's in my office, attempting to brew a Calming Potion with Mr. Malfoy's aid, though I doubt it will be any good", Severus sneered, "Feel free to join them. Oh, and Rudolphus, keep away from all ingredients, we wouldn't want to air Hogwarts more thoroughly, now would we?"

"Funny", Rudolphus remarked, "I'll make a note to laugh about it once I have more time at my hands", Rabastan had already vanished into the next room and the older brother followed suit.

The sight was quite cute actually. The Malfoy heir sat elegantly sprawled in the black leather armchair near the small-burning fire, with a cat-like curled up Harry in his lap, gliding his hands through the unruly black strands while talking to Harry in a low voice: "You know, I don't think that babies are all that bad. I have a cousin twice removed, she's about seven now I think, but she and her parents used to visit us quite often so that Mum and Mathilde, that's the mother by the way, could chat away. I always had to look after her, but after I while I really looked forward to their visits. Not that I complained less, mind you, that would have been disadvantageous. But she really was cute, with the Malfoy good looks of course- our whole family is more than good-looking, I'm sure you have noticed", it always made Harry laugh when he talked like that and now too he received a weak chuckle, "Where was I? Oh, yes, nice little bugger she was, with blond hair and blue eyes and she always made those gurgling noises instead of laughing. See, babies aren't that bad..."

"Very convincing, Draco", Harry sniffed, "Let me sum this up: Malfoys are good-looking and babies make gurgling noises. Well, that helped a lot..."

"Don't be like this", Draco whined, "It's not like I'm an expert on this either", the blond looked up confusedly when Rabastan cleared his throat, "Oh, I didn't see you there. Like to offer some kind of advice?"

"We might, but could you inform us maybe what caused this beforehand? The Dark Lord was rather vague...", Harry stiffened and curled up even tighter, big tears once again rolling down his cheeks.

"Great", Draco hissed at them, "Look what you've done. It took me over an hour to calm him this far."

"Don't be angry", Harry sobbed, "Don't be angry, please, Draco, don't."

"Shh, I'm sorry", Draco once again patted the smaller boy's back, "Can I tell them, Harry?"

"Yeah", Harry whispered and pressed even closer, "But don't be angry."

"Maybe, you should take a seat", Draco suggested while he summoned a blanket from Severus' bedroom and covered the once again trembling boy.

The older men did so obediently, stretching the armchair into a small sofa, and each took a seat next to the two students, expectantly looking at Draco: "Well, to make it short. Harry's pregnant and it's the Dark Lord's fault in more than one way."

"Okay, could you elaborate a little it might have been just a bit too short", Rabastan said, "What did you mean with 'in more then one way'?"

"Harry told him to use contraception so that this wouldn't happen, but he apparently didn't understand and said something that Harry took as an agreement", Draco explained, sighing as Harry started to cry harder, "Today when Harry found out he went to confront the Dark Lord about it, who told him he should get an abortion. And that's what leads us here..."

"Oh, Harry", Rudolphus gave the Gryffindor an awkward embrace, since he wouldn't let go of Draco, "We're sorry, but we'll help you and the Dark Lord looked really sorry when we met him. He probably just didn't think about what he said. It won't be that bad."

"Of course it will", Harry sniffed, "Men are not supposed to be pregnant. Women are supposed to. Men are supposed to marry and take care of their wives and their children and then finally die of a heart-attack because they grew too fat to move away from the television. And if grown men aren't supposed to be pregnant sixteen-year-old boys are even less supposed to carry a child. And even if men were supposed to be pregnant, the other father isn't supposed to hate the child or his husband and everyone is supposed to say: 'Congratulations' and not 'I'm sorry' or 'It's not that bad'. So tell me again that everything will turn out just fine."

"Harry...", Draco said cautiously, "I'm sure the Dark Lord doesn't hate you, nor the child. Do you want to know what my father said when he found out that my mum was pregnant with me? She told me once when Dad was incredible angry with me. She had planned it out perfectly. She wore her best dress and had prepared a candle-light dinner and when he came home she sat him down and smiled at him and said that she had some good news for him. He nodded at her while sipping his wine. My mum looked deep in his eyes and said: 'I'm pregnant, honey. Your son is growing inside of me.' And he put down his glass and said in a cold voice: 'I'm still waiting for the good news.' Then he got up and walked out of the room, banging the door behind him and as soon as it clicked shut he fainted. I'm rather proud of myself for accomplishing that", Draco smirked, "But the point is, Harry, that he loves me and my mum and that he would do anything for us. So I tell you again that everything will turn out just fine."

"Really?", Harry peeked up from under black bangs, "Lucius fainted?"

"Yes, and if you intend to use it as blackmail, I would have to defend the family honour and deny it vehemently", Draco smirked.

"Do you think that my father fainted, too?", Harry asked insecurely.

"Maybe, I didn't know him", Draco shrugged.

"Actually, he didn't", Severus supplied from the doorway, after he had dismissed the last students, "Evans decided to drop the news on him in the headquarter while everyone was eating. Your father nearly choked and **Black** fainted, it was quite amusing, especially as Alice Longbottom chose the same evening to reveal her pregnancy to everyone. I've never seen so many shocked wizards in my life... I think your father was more worried that Evans would scream at him. Are you feeling better, Harry?"

Harry nodded, then shrugged: "I can't change the fact that I'm pregnant so I just will have to deal with it."

"Don't talk like your life is already over", Draco chastised sternly.

"It looks to me like you're already dealing with it", the Potion's Master remarked, "Look at your hand."

Harry confusedly first looked at his left hand, which was tangled with Rudolphus' right and then at his other hand that protectively rested against his stomach.

A gentle smile spread over his face: "Yeah, I think you're right. It's just this child doesn't deserve all this..."

"Neither do you, Harry", Rudolphus said.

As it became obvious that Harry wouldn't reply, Severus suggested going up for dinner and everyone agreed, though Harry did with some reluctance and allowed Draco to slip his arm around his waist as they walked through the dark hallways. Rudolphus and Rabastan walked next to the two and Severus in front of them, partly to preserve his reputation and partly to scare away all the students, who might have been in their way.

/Harry, I'm sorry, Tom got up from his seat as soon as the four wizards walked through the double doors shortly after Severus had strode to the head table imposingly/Please, can we talk? I know what I said sounded bad.../

"Oh, don't worry it's fine", Harry said evenly.

"Really?", Tom asked hopefully, not having expected Harry to give in so easily.

"No, Tom, it's not fine, but maybe now you know what it feels like if someone just ignores what you say", Harry hissed dangerously, "And what you said didn't only sound bad, it definitely was. And don't touch me", he glared at Tom's hand that had moved to grab his hand.

"Please, I know I made a mistake", Tom almost pleaded abandoning the snake language since Harry refused to answer in Parseltongue- a sure sign that he was angry- he at least wanted to speak the same language as his husband, "And that it's my fault entirely, but I want to fix it", he once again tried to hug his younger husband, but Harry seemingly panicked laying one hand protectively on his stomach/You will not kill my child. You will not, Harry backed away with wide fearful eyes and then ran out of the hall.

Voldemort wanted to follow, but Draco sneered at him: "Don't you think you have upset him enough for one day?", and jogged after the fleeing boy.

The Dark Lord slumped as much as he allowed himself to do in public, bowing his head defeatedly. Harry feared him!

Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling merrily as he piped a "Trouble in paradise, my boy? You lose, I win." in his ear.

But he wouldn't lose Harry, he couldn't. Fine, so Harry hated him at the moment, it could have been worse, he would just have to work a bit harder- a lot harder.

He looked up hopefully, as the double doors swung open, half way through dinner. It was indeed Harry accompanied by the blond jealousy factor number one, who supported the smaller boy and led him to the Slytherin table to where Blaise was keeping them seats.

Harry put up little resistance, which he was entitled to after throwing up all of his breakfast and the little lunch Madam Pomfrey had forced down his throat and didn't look up once. Draco was trying to make him eat, but Harry just tuned him out, the thought alone of food made him nauseous again.

Of course the blond noticed that after a while and instead of shouting at his one-time-nemesis he picked him up easily and carried the half-asleep boy out, not before sending Blaise a meaning full glance, who quickly gathered up some sandwiches and followed them.

"You're going the wrong way", Harry mumbled, "If you carry me all the way down to the dungeons, I will have to walk thirty-six staircases up again."

"You will stay in our room tonight", Draco decided, "You're not going back there to be pestered by some ignorant Gryffindorks. You had enough commotion for one day."

"But Tom said...", Harry started hesitantly, but the blond interrupted: "I think the Dark Lord still owes you a lot and if it consoles you, I'll inform him of this arrangement once you're asleep."

"Thank you, Draco", Harry settled more comfortable in his arms and was asleep before they even reached the Slytherin common room.

The two older boys brought him up to the dormitory they shared (money sure is useful most of the time) and tucked him into Draco's bed, placing a glass of water and the wrapped sandwiches on the night table before they went back to the common room.

"So, Draco, care to explain to me what this was all about?", Blaise answered innocently, poking Draco in the ribs.

"Swear on your family honour that you won't tell anyone else", Draco demanded, while he put up the strongest privacy spells he knew.

"What has got in you? You know that I always keep silence", Blaise raised an eyebrow questioningly, "But if you insist: Yes, I swear on the Zabini family honour to not relay anything to anyone else."

"It's just, it's not really my place to tell you, but I want you to help Harry, so...", he explained Harry's situation, "And now we have to help him."

"We will", Blaise agreed, "We have to find out what he didn't want to tell us on the train. If our assumption is right he needs help with more than just the pregnancy..."

* * *

**Okay, I feel in the mood for a bit of blackmail right now, so here it goes: If I get over forty reviews you'll get a really long chappie tomorrow (over 8000 words) and if I get under forty I'll cut it into two and you'll get two chapters with about 4000 words (not at the same day of course!). So it's in your hands now. Don't disappoint me!**


	33. Making Up

**Disclaimer: All the characters from the books, all the places mentioned annd basically everything else is intellectual property of J.K.Rowling.**

**Author's Note: Hey there! You took the blackmail pretty seriously, didn't you? #snicker# It's not like the chapters would have been all that short if I had cut this chapter into two, though this saved me the trouble to decide where I should make a cut. I'll post this chapter first and then I'll answer them, the reviews I mean, since I don't want to make you wait any longer. I planned to tell you today that I won't be able to post everyday from now on and will instead post every two days or something like that, but after this very convincing number of reviews I don't have the heart. #shrug# But I'll really need more time for school and for my job and for my friends and for things in general, though I will post tomorrow and Wednesday because I'll only have three lessons, but after that I think I won't post daily anymore. Sorry, and thanks again for all those wonderful reviews. Blackmail seems to be quite effective to get you to review... #lol#**

**And now enjoy your super long chappie!

* * *

**

**33. MAKING UP**

The next few days were like hell for Tom. Harry was giving him the silent treatment, if he wasn't shouting at him or covering in fear. He didn't show up in any of his Defence lessons, conveniently placing his appointments with the nurse in those lessons, striding into the classroom after the bell rang and shoving his homework and a pass from Madam Pomfrey in his hands before he hurried off to his next class.

In the nights he stayed in Slytherin or with one of his Death Eaters, sending Dobby, who glared at him with narrowed tennis-ball eyes, to fetch his things in the morning.

Every time he had tried to talk with Harry and apologise, he would receive a glare or a tongue-lashing in answer, depending on Harry's mood more than on what he had said. But the worst was the knowledge that Harry was doing much worse than he himself did. He knew from Severus, who at least was still talking to him, that Harry threw up on a regular basis, keeping little of the food he so diligently coerced himself into eating in his stomach and he was sure that Harry had also fainted a couple of times from a snippet of conversation between Blaise and Draco he had overheard. And then there was the crying, he rarely saw the black-haired boy without a wet face or red-rimmed eyes anymore.

He even went to Madam Pomfrey asking if Harry would be alright and if it was supposed to be that way, but she just told him that information on patients was confidential and that he should make up with Harry before bothering her again.

That was the gleam of hope he stubbornly clutched to: Everyone said that he should make up with Harry as so they thought it possible and as so Harry needed him. And that's why he had decided to buy some books on male pregnancies and fatherhood in general.

At the moment he was absorbed in "The 101 wonders of male pregnancies", though as he had gathered from the index the book only described 98 so-called wonders and didn't provide him with any help, how to apologise to Harry in a way he would accept.

"Tom?", Harry's voice sounded small and wary, "Is that you? Why is your hair red?"

His heart skipped a beat or two as he slowly turned around and caught sight of his petite husband: "I went shopping and needed a disguise, I guess I forgot the hair", he slowly extended his wand, so as not to scare Harry and took of the glamour, "Would you like to see what I bought? I got some things for you, too."

Harry looked doubtful and slowly shook his head, backing away again: "I'll just go."

"Harry, please...", back to begging again, "You don't have to be afraid of me. Didn't you come here for a reason? If you want to be alone, I will go... and you don't have to stay the weekend, though I would miss you. I miss you, Harry, and I'm sorry for what I said and did to you..."

"I have to go", Harry whispered and nearly ran out of the room.

It was Thursday and Tom knew that Harry had Quidditch practise on Thursdays, but that still didn't explain what Harry had wanted, which had prompted him to visit him in his rooms. Whatever it was he hoped it was important enough that Harry would come again. He sighed, something he had found himself doing a lot lately, and forlornly looked at the package of books he had bought for Harry. It wasn't the most romantic gift, but given their current state of non-communication he thought it appropriate.

His own pile of books lay on his desk already categorised in "may be helpful" and "I doubt the author had any idea what he filled the pages with" and in front of him on the small coffee table, next to the book he had been reading before Harry had walked in lay a notebook, filled with information he had deducted from the books so far.

He sighed once again and decided to take a bath and maybe forget about his husband for a while, though he most likely wouldn't be able to accomplish that.

His prediction turned out to be true, but still the bath had helped him relax and for two blissful minutes he had been able to pretend that Harry was not angry with him, but waiting in the other room, leafing through one of the books, before harsh reality caught up with him. Perhaps, after this short insight in his psyche you can imagine his surprise when he found Harry curled up on one of the beanbags, reading through his notes. He stood there in the doorway for a moment trying to process this sight, staring at Harry.

The small boy must have felt his eyes on him and looked up sharply, his green eyes boring into Voldemort's red ones before he unfolded himself quickly and threw his arms around Tom's midsection.

Tom insecurely returned the hug and as he became aware that Harry wasn't drawing back, he pressed their bodies more firmly together: "Will you forgive me, Harry?", he asked after a while.

"You already are forgiven", Harry mumbled, "Thank you."

"For what?", Tom inquired confusedly.

"For making an effort", Harry looked up at him, smiling slightly, "For not giving up."

"Sweetie, I will never give up on you", he pulled Harry over to the sofa, happily putting an arm around Harry's shoulder as the Gryffindor snuggled into him.

"We need to talk, Tom", Harry said reluctantly, freeing himself from Tom's embrace and sitting down in one of the beanbags, "You scare me shitless, Tom, and you hurt me constantly."

"Harry, I...", the black-haired man started, but Harry interrupted, "No, let me finish. And it was okay, but now I have to look out for my child and I can't allow you to harm or even kill it. I'm not angry with you and I'm grateful for all this", he motioned to the notes, "But this doesn't work. So I ask you to stay away from me", tears were streaming down his face.

"No, Harry, I refuse."

"It was not a request", Harry choked out, "Stay away from me. I'll be back on Sunday so that you can fuck me..."

"Harry, please, may I say something, too?", Voldemort pleaded, not showing how much Harry's words had hurt him, "I'm sorry I hurt you, even though unintentionally and I will try to not do it again if you tell me how exactly I did. And I'm sorry I scare you, but there really is no reason to be scared. I wanted you to bestow me with a child, Harry, I didn't want you to become pregnant this young or without your consent, but I want that child."

"Then why did you say, I should kill it?", Harry sniffed.

"Because I can't see a jumble of undeveloped cells as a human being", Tom explained, "And as I said before I didn't want you to have to cope with a pregnancy this early on. But I'll respect your decision to keep it and I will help you with it, if you want me to or not. I will be a part of your life and I refuse to only use you for sexual release, so I won't stay away from you."

During his last sentence he had slowly got up, walked over to his husband and now carefully cradled the fragile boy in his arms, rubbing his back soothingly: "Don't be afraid, little one, please don't be afraid anymore. I promise you and our child will be save."

"Really?", Harry sniffed.

"Really really", he kissed Harry's forehead lightly, "Now will you tell me what I have to be aware of with my very own pregnant wizard? Those books aren't all that helpful."

"What books?", Harry asked confusedly, snuggling into the older wizard.

"Didn't you see them? The ones I bought and from which I have taken the notes you read earlier."

"I'm sorry", Harry blushed profusely, "I didn't mean to snoop, it's just I saw my name and I got curious..."

"It's okay", Tom chuckled, "I planned to show them to you anyway, but I also bought a few books for you Do you want to see them?"

Harry nodded and the Dark Lord summoned the pile of books over to them. Well, it was a rather small pile with only three books, though one was pretty large. The one on top was an autobiography called "Winter Son" by a wizard called Adam Winter, who had given birth to his son in late January 1934 and the clerk had assured him that it was very descriptive on being a bearer and being pregnant. The second and largest one was bound in dark brown leather, which read "Chronicles of Male Mothers" and was supposed to list some general facts about male pregnancies and giving birth as well as some exceptions on the basis of real cases. And the last one called "A guide to being a parent", filled one hundred or so pages with rules to consider in order to birth a healthy child.

"Thank you, Tom", Harry smiled cautiously up at him.

"You're welcome", he once again kissed his young husband chastely, "Will you tell me what Madam Pomfrey told you in your meetings? She refused to inform me..."

"Okay", the Gryffindor said nervously, "Where should I start?"

"Why don't you tell me what changes will have to be made first and how I can support you?"

"Madam Pomfrey said that I should avoid curses or kicks to my abdomen and that I shouldn't drink any dangerous potion or inhale certain vapours. I am to avoid stressy situations and losing my temper because the child feeds on my magic, but I'm also supposed to use my magic regularly because otherwise it will be too much for the child. She said I could continue my lessons with Rudolphus and Rabastan if they are careful not to hurt me and that I should also play Quidditch since I love it and as long as I dodge all the Bludgers I'll be fine. And she said I should eat more and I'm really trying, but..."

"But you throw up most of it", Tom said, brushing a few strands out of Harry's pale face, "I know. Maybe it would be better if you only ate as much as you actually want to."

"Then I wouldn't eat anything", Harry chuckled ruefully, "But I know what you mean and I will try it, okay?"

"Okay, and what can I do?", the Dark Lord asked softly.

"I don't know", Harry shrugged, "I didn't ask Madam Pomfrey about that..."

"Then I will ask her later on and if something comes to your mind, you'll tell me, agreed?", Harry nodded and pressed a little closer: "I'm tired."

"Maybe you should take a nap, sweetie?", Voldemort suggested, "Come on, the sofa is certainly more comfortable", he scooped up the slight boy and moved them over to the sofa, covering him with the white blanket, "Sleep tight."

Harry curled up once again, snuggling closer to the older wizard, his head comfortably on Tom's thigh, and closed his eyes, dozing off almost immediately. Tom had a hard time to remember when he had been this happy the last time. He had his Harry back, his Harry, who was pregnant with his child and who peacefully snoozed in his arms, one of his small hands once again protectively resting against his stomach. He slowly brushed Harry's robes aside and then sneaked one of his large hands under Harry's sweater, putting it on his still too flat abdomen and began to rub in small circles, trying to grasp it that his child was growing inside of that petite body. Harry shifted a little and their hands brushed against each other, but didn't open his eyes.

The next three-quarter hour they spent in that position and they would have continued doing so if it weren't for one Lucius Malfoy who stormed into their room in a cold fury (after Tom had unlocked it with his wand) and glared down at the Dark Lord after banging the door behind him.

"Lucius, did you want something?", Voldemort asked mildly irritated, but in a lowered voice because he didn't want to wake up Harry.

"Well, I came to give you a piece of my mind about making Harry upset, but it seems that's unnecessary now, Mylord", the blond wizard smirked, "Am I right to assume that you and Harry made up?"

"You could say so", the Dark Lord smirked back, "But lower your voice, Harry's sleeping."

"Am not", Harry stretched like a cat and blinked up at his husband, "Hey, Lucius. What brought you here?"

"My son", the blond looked around, looking for something suitable to sit on, but since the only seats available around were the beanbags (something totally undeserving of a Malfoy) he preferred to keep standing, "He was of the opinion that you needed some moral support and your husband someone to set him right, though he got all secretive when I asked what was the cause of the situation. Care to enlighten me?"

"No, I have to go to the bathroom", Harry had went white as a sheet, "Tom will."

"Harry, are you...", the small boy had already half closed the door and before Tom had finished the sentence the door shut completely and the sound of locks being turned could be heard; he sighed, "Lucius, take a seat, why don't you?"

"Because I refuse to sit on a beanbag", the aristocrat scowled disdainfully at the cushions.

"Harry seems to like them", the Dark Lord mused, "And he won't approve if you're still standing when he comes back."

"Harry likes the rain as well and too large clothes and fairytales", Lucius argued, "You'll forgive me if I don't find your argument too convincing, Mylord."

"Well, then sit down on the sofa", Voldemort ordered him, "I obviously have to talk to you."

"I'm all ears", Lucius sat down with a straight back, but still managed to look totally relaxed.

"Harry is a bearer and now pregnant", Tom said evenly, "He asked me to use contraception, which I didn't hear, so obviously I didn't. First reason why he was angry with me. Then I didn't exactly react enthusiastic about the news and told him to get an abortion, which was the second reason he was angry with me. Would you want to say something?"

"Of course, Mylord", Lucius smiled at the boy-who-lived, who had reappeared from the bathroom, "I think congratulations are in order."

"Oh, thank you, Lucius", Harry beamed at him and hugged him rapturously, "Thank you so much."

"Any time, Harry", the blond smiled once again at the small boy, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine", Harry chuckled lightly as he saw the disbelieving looks he received from both Dark wizards, "You shouldn't ask questions if you don't feel up to accepting the answers."

"So you're telling me that it's completely okay that you had to rush to the bathroom not five minutes earlier, white as a ghost, and that you reappear not looking better at all", Tom scowled down at his shorter husband, "I find that hard to believe."

"I have to agree with you, Mylord", Lucius added.

/Lucius is your best-friend, isn't he, Harry abruptly changed the subject and language/Then why isn't he allowed to call you by your first name/

/Because he still is a Death Eater, the Dark Lord answered, sighing heavily.

/That is stupid, Tom, Harry said reproachfully/You destroy a friendship just because you don't want to lose one of your minions./

/That's fine with me./

/But it's not fine with me, Harry argued/I want you to have friends, too. And I want you to treat Lucius with the respect he deserves. And I want you to open up and let others see the fascinating, caring, courageous, stubborn personage I know. Please/

"Fine", Tom scowled at his younger husband, who smirked triumphantly and kissed his nose, "Lucius, you're allowed to call me Tom."

"Mylord? Could you repeat that, I'm not sure I heard you right", the blond asked perplexed.

"As Harry pointed out to me", the red-eyed man frowned at the Gryffindor, who had curled up between the two older man, "You are my best-friend and it is seemingly stupid of me to force you to use that title so you are allowed to call me Tom."

"I thank you for that privilege, Tom", Lucius inclined his head slightly, "Thank you, Harry."

"There see, it wasn't that bad, was it?", Harry looked up at the Dark Lord, "Can we go down to the Great Hall?"

"Sure", Tom agreed readily and helped the green-eyed boy up, snaking one arm around his waist almost immediately, "I can't wait to rub it in Dumbledore's face that you forgave me..."

"At least you have a purpose in life", Harry murmured sarcastically and Lucius laughed.

They entered the Great Hall together, which alone was a good reason for everyone to stare. Harry had avoided Professor Riddle, whom they now knew to be You-Know-Who, during the last few days, not even allowing him to come closer than three meters and now the boy hero had walked through the great double doors with one possessive arm slung around his waist and furthermore accompanied instead of the Malfoy heir by a smirking Lucius Malfoy. But then the Dark Lord halted his steps and spun his young lover around, pulling him flush against his body and lowering his head only slightly claimed Harry's pink lips with his, forcing the smaller boy to stand on his tiptoes and to throw his arms around his neck in order to keep his balance.

Oh, how he had missed this. This Harry, who was responsive and not afraid of him. Tom teasingly suckled Harry's bottom lip, cupping his face with his large hands, before his tongue pushed into Harry's mouth, stroking leisurely, drawing a small mewl from his Gryffindor.

"Wow", Harry sighed breathlessly once Tom had released his mouth, "Trying to prove something?"

"Yes, you are mine, Harry Potter", he growled passionately.

"I'm yours, Tom", Harry assured him gently, "But you have no control over me."

"I know, which makes keeping you all the more challenging", he chuckled lightly, once again initiating a much shorter kiss, "But I wouldn't have it any other way", he whispered the last sentence in Harry's ear before he gentlemanly led him to the Gryffindor table and pulled out his chair for him, "Enjoy your meal, little one."

"Where have you been, Potter?", Ron sneered contemptuously and Harry had the impression that Ginny had kicked him under the table, "You missed Quidditch practise."

"Not that it's any of your business, but I had to check with my husband and I trusted that all of you have brains enough to fly a bit without my supervision", Harry returned evenly, not looking at the red-head.

"Sloper hit Hermione with a Bulgier", Ron complained, "She had to go to the Hospital Wing."

"And what was she doing there, Ron?", Harry asked annoyedly, "Besides, she's fine if you abstain from drowning in self-pity. Maybe you should go visit her instead of bothering me. And Jack, how about you do some additional training, where you try to beat with aim instead of pure force?"

"That's not so easy, Harry", Jack said gruffly.

"I'll help you... Tomorrow after classes", Harry thought for a moment, "To make up for the missed training today. You should come, too, Andrew, after all we all know that Gryffindor is supposed to win the Cup, don't we?"

The table around him erupted in consenting shouts and several heads from the other tables swivelled around to stare at them.

"But still, that doesn't explain why you were sucking faces with You-Know-Who only moments before", Ginny interrupted the cheerful atmosphere, "Didn't look to me like you were as averse to it as you claimed, poor little Harry."

"Miss Weasley, I would really appreciate it if you could focus on your own dinner instead of keeping my husband from his. Five points from Gryffindor", Tom's cold voice spoke up from behind them, "Harry, would you like to eat with me and Lucius at the teacher's table?"

"I'm not really hungry", Harry murmured, but relented when Tom stared at him reproachfully, "But I'm sure I'll like your company more than this here."

"Harry, will you sleep in our dormitory tonight?", Neville asked pleadingly, "We'll make Ron shut up and I would like to talk to you...", Ron sent him an angry glare, which surprisingly enough had no effect on the shy boy, "After all you are still a Gryffindor, aren't you? We haven't seen you except in classes..."

"I'll be there", Harry promised and tugged the Dark Lord away before he could protest, "You'll have me the whole weekend, Tom, and you promised."

"Don't I know?", Tom sighed dramatically, "Just promise that if for some reason you change your plans that you'll come to me instead of the Lestranges or someone else."

"I just remembered", Harry's eyes suddenly shone more brightly as he skipped ahead to where the two brothers sat, "I need to talk to you two after dinner, okay?", he kissed both their cheeks and smiled encouragingly at them as they nodded, "It's nothing bad, don't worry."

"So, it's looks like you made up with our Lord", Rabastan raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Were we that obvious? It was supposed to be a secret...", Harry teased him lightly, "What gave us away? Was it the kiss?"

"It was actually the fact that you smiled a real smile again", Rudolphus returned just as cheeky, smirking as Harry blushed.

"Stop tormenting my husband", Tom ordered sternly, enveloping the smaller wizard in his arms/Though it is true, you know, and I'm rather proud of myself.../

"Tom, Harry, if I remember correctly we have already discussed whether or not Harry is allowed to be up here at the teacher's table...", Dumbledore spoke up and with a polite, forced smile motioned for Harry to leave, "If you would, Harry?"

/Let me handle this, the Dark Lord hissed soothingly in Harry's ear and pushed him towards Lucius, who caught him with ease and settled him on his lap, "Dumbledore, I'm sure it's a strain for you to meddle in everyone's lives and to keep up with the outcome of certain discussions, but I assure you that Harry will always be allowed to spent time with me and if you continue to foolishly assume that you can order us around and intervene in our life I will look to it that yours will come to a sudden end, am I understood?"

"I find it incredibly impertinent of you to force Harry, a mere child, to please your sick desires and to hand him over to your Death Eaters like he was nothing more than a rag doll or a whore at best", the aged the wizard had stood as well, in an attempt to match Voldemort in height, and said those words, trying to win Harry back.

"How dare you?", Voldemort pointed his wand directly at Dumbledore's beard bow, "How fucking dare you? If you hadn't noticed, Harry is his own person and he can make his own decisions and he certainly is no whore or a rag doll and if you insult him in such a way again I will invoke the Slytherin family rules to defend the family honour and kill you anyway. Don't think I have a problem with going through with that threat and no court would even think about convicting me for it..."

"Tom, you have to calm down", Lucius called urgently, cradling a sobbing black-haired boy to his chest, a small trickle of blood soiling his immaculate robes, "He isn't worth that you hurt Harry."

"Salazar, precious", he was at Harry's side in the blink of an eye and took him in his arms/I'm sorry, I'm sorry, sweetie. I shouldn't have lost my temper, I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm sorry./

/I'm okay, Harry groaned looking up from where his head rested against Tom's shoulder/It just hurts when you're angry./

/You shouldn't use a 'just' in a sentence like that, Harry, he thankfully accepted the wet napkin Lucius handed him and carefully dabbed the blood from Harry's forehead with it/Better now/  
Harry hummed appreciatively/It isn't true what he said, Tom. You don't treat me like a whore and I thank you for that and for defending me, but I can look after myself./

/I know, but you still deserve someone to worry about you and now I need to take care of the old fool, he had meant to use one of his more creative and hurtful curses, but Harry stopped him, mirth dancing in his eyes/Let me, please? Give me your wand, will you/

So far the four Death Eaters had kept Dumbledore at bay, though Severus played his role as a double agent and looked rather reluctant, and the other teachers had taken on a defensive stance, but hadn't dared to reach for their wands. Voldemort still stood with his back to all the adults, with Harry looking over his shoulder and no-one, but Harry, was really sure what happened next: One moment Dumbledore was glaring reproachfully at the Death Eaters and tried to give his Potion's Master a secret sign, which was studiously ignored, and the next moment there was a beam of blinding purple light and in place of Dumbledore stood a garden gnome (the Muggle version made of potter's clay fully equipped with a pointed red hat, a long white beard (still with little pink bows) a looking glass and little chess pawns around his hat).

"Mr. Potter, what have you done? Do you have any idea how dangerous full human transfigurations are?", Professor McGonagall frowned at him her lips thinner than usual.

"What? I don't even have my wand with me", Harry protested vehemently, holding up his hands to prove his point, "And yes, I know that it is dangerous, I did pay attention to your speech, you know? And to me it looks like the transfiguration was successful..."

"Hmpf", she still scowled at him, "Then, who ever did this would do better to reverse it- now!"

Understandably no-one stepped forward with an apologetic smile and helped the Headmaster back into his human form: "Professor, if I had been the one to perform the spell in the first place I certainly wouldn't reverse it after only two minutes."

"Thanks for that insightful view, Mr. Potter", she scowled darkly at him, "Now, Mr. Riddle, would you be so kind as to reverse the spell you used immediately."

"Tom was the only one standing with his back to the headmaster", argued Harry, "It's rather prejudiced of you to accuse him, Professor."

"I assure you, Minerva, that if I had been the one to curse the old fool I would have chosen far more drastic and painful measures. Besides, I always was under the impression that you claimed to be an expert in transfiguration so maybe you should do something about Dumbledore's awkward situation", the Dark Lord smirked at her, "And now- if you don't mind- we'll continue our dinner in peace and quiet with no-one bothering us..."

And so they did. Well, the Dark wizards plus Harry did while McGonagall pensively stared at the garden gnome with the other teachers watching them warily, adding more or less helpful advice every once in a while and the students mostly deemed it more necessary to voice their suspicions and assumption than to fill their stomachs with nourishment.

Harry sat with his back to them, straddling Tom's lap and pretending he didn't feel the suspicious glances thrown his way or the still small waves of hatred directed in his direction.

"You should eat something", Tom nudged him gently, handing Harry a turkey sandwich, "I won't have you skip anymore meals because that senile coot upset you."

"It's not that", Harry murmured subduedly, "They hate me, they think I've changed sides and betrayed them."

"Then they are stupid", Lucius declared from his left, "Everyone who uses their eyes can see that you were not the one converted... Don't take it to heart what they might say or think."

"Besides, we like you", Rudolphus butted in, "Wasn't it you who told me to take myself more seriously?"

Harry laughed at him: "It seems you only listen to me when it suits you."

"The birth right of a Slytherin", the brown-haired man agreed, smirking at him, "But seeing as you ignore us most of the time, I think it's only fair..."

"Hey, I do listen to you", protested Harry, "I just don't believe everything you come up with. That's the birth right of people with brains and common sense."

"Harry, eat your dinner", Madam Pomfrey said sternly and loaded a plate full with steak and noodles, "By the way, quite impressive spellwork, though I certainly don't approve", she whispered in his ear and pushed the plate into his hands before she stalked back to her own seat.

Harry pouted cutely, but began to obediently shovel some food into his mouth.

"How come, you do what she tells you while I have to blackmail you?", Tom asked irritatedly.

"When did you blackmail me?", Harry asked curiously, turning around so that he could put his plate down on the table.

"For instance when I told you would have to go back to bed if you didn't eat enough...", the red-eyed wizard said.

"Oh, did you really believe I would go back to our rooms?", Harry smiled over his shoulder, "Sometimes you're just too cute..."

Voldemort growled warningly, but Harry only intertwined their hands and chuckled lowly before he turned to the blond next to him: "Only hypothetically, but if I were to piss you off really badly and would offend your family honour or something like that, what would I have to do to make up for it?"

"What did you do?", Lucius asked in a dread-filled voice.

"Nothing, it really is only theoretical", Harry assured him, "But what would I have to do?"

"Well, depending on what hypothetically happened, you could either spend a lot of money, give me a prized possession, let me do the same thing to you or marry into the family", Lucius sighed, "All of course in connection with a profuse apology and a lot of grovelling. Are you sure this is only theoretical?"

"Yes, I'm sure, Lucius", Harry repeated dutifully, "So, let's assume for just one minute that you had lost your magic because of me or that I killed someone of your family what could be done to make you forgive me?"

"You mean I would be a squib", Lucius clarified, seemingly having difficulties to imagine something as horrifying as that, "I guess there wouldn't be much you could do and even if you were to use all the aforementioned options you still wouldn't be forgiven and our descendants would have to live with a family feud for at least ten generations before we could even consider accepting all those options. So please, Harry, tell me again that you just asked out of general curiosity."

"Oh, honestly, Lucius", Harry scolded, "I would never deprive you of even just a small part of your magic and I wouldn't dream of killing someone of your family. By the way, who would you consider family in such a case?"

"Everyone with the name of Malfoy and everyone married to a Malfoy and every child from such a bond. Basically everyone with even a drop of Malfoy blood in their veins", Lucius sighed heavily.

"So you wouldn't consider Sirius family, would you?", Harry asked interestedly.

"No, he's a part of Narcissa's family, though if her family were somehow offended, I would have to take part in defending her honour", the blond explained, "Harry, do you have a reason to ask all those questions, this is not exactly what one would consider a subject suitable for light table talk..."

"Just one more question, please?", Harry begged with big green eyes and a small pout, "Is there a family feud between you and the Weasleys?"

"No, we just don't like each other very much. I guess our views are just too different", Lucius answered honestly, "A family feud is not to be taken lightly in any event, Harry, and so they aren't declared very often and only in the rarest of cases. It all depends on the family rules when and why it is considered necessary."

"Oh, good", Harry leaned back contently, "You should spend some time with Draco, you know, he missed you."

"I was planning, too", Lucius said warily, "You are not up to something, are you, Harry?"

"For the last time, Lucius", Harry chastised the tall blond, "I was only curious and I think you should spend time with your son since you're already here and if you ask me one more time if I plan to start a family feud I'll have to take drastic measures, understood? And now come on, you should sit with Draco", he pulled the Malfoy head of family out of his seat and dragged him over to where Draco sat surrounded by his friends, "Besides, Lucius, I'm always up to something and thanks for coming."

"You're welcome", the tall blond slowed his steps so that they could walk more gracefully, "And I'm sorry for not believing you in the first place. Can I do anything to make it up to you?"

"Actually you could, or at least I hope so", Harry asked softly, "Could you maybe get in contact with Sirius or Remus somehow and tell them... you know? I would write them an owl, but I think Dumbledore will be intercepting my mail and I don't want him or anyone else to know."

"Sure, Harry", he smiled down at the small boy he had come to care about like a son, "Hello, Draco."

"Father", Draco inclined his had in formal greeting, "Would you like to eat with me?"

"Yes, Draco", Lucius replied just as stiffly and took the chair Pansy had vacated for him, "Thank you, Miss Parkinson, how is your mother doing?"

"Nicely", she replied, "The business goes smoothly and my sister is negotiating about an estate in Cleveland."

"Oh, yes, I've been there once, nice location with good line of communication, if I remember correctly", Lucius answered, "Harry don't you want to take a seat as well?"

"I did, but I just realised that it's not really the sort of conversation I would enjoy", he scrunched up his nose a little, "Anyway, did you bring my book bag, Draco?"

The younger blond-haired wizard handed it over: "You forgot your wand as well. I hope you enjoy using me as your drudge..."

"Of course, I do", the raven-haired boy smirked at him before kissing his cheek, "I always thought you had to be useful for something... Have fun and thank you."

He skipped back over to the four Dark wizards, who had just finished their dinner and regally descended the few steps, followed by the angry glares of the other teachers, who finally had decided to take the garden gnome to Dumbledore's office to end his embarrassment, though they could to nothing to stop the whispers that had broken out.

Before he could ask his husband whether it was okay for him to talk with the Lestrange brothers in private said husband once again pulled him closer and kissed him passionately, one hand cupping the pale face while the other stroked the small of his back, drawing a small mew from Harry, whose hands rested against Tom's chest, feeling the regular heart beats.

"Yes, you may go with Rabastan and Rudolphus", he whispered into Harry's ear, his breath sending small shivers down his spine, "And I shall miss you when you spend the whole night in the Gryffindor Tower, but once again you have my permission- not that you need it or that you would listen to me if I objected. And I dared to cancel your appointment tomorrow with Madam Pomfrey, which happened to be placed during your Defence lesson, and changed it to Saturday eleven o'clock so that I can come with you, if you allow it..."

"Of course, I would like you to be there", Harry smiled up at the red-eyed man, "Though I must admit I found it quite amusing to skip your lessons."

"So did everyone else", sighed the Dark Lord, "But if you want to do this again at least inform me beforehand, okay? I was really worried the first time you didn't show up and Draco refused to give me a straight answer. Stupid Malfoys... It's your bad influence."

"I don't deny it", Harry chuckled lightly, "Just give me a bit more time and I'll corrupt all your Death Eaters."

"I can't wait", Tom returned sarcastically, but with smiling eyes, glad that Harry seemed to be comfortable with teasing him, "So you wanted to talk with Rudolphus and Rabastan? Then, of you go! And I want you to get a good night's sleep- I'm sure you're not supposed to be up and about all day."

"Right you are, Mr. Riddle", Madam Pomfrey had joined their group, "If you have a bit of time to spare I would like to discuss Mr. Potter's condition with you and Severus."

The two black-haired man nodded and left with the nurse, who had earned herself a reproachful look from Harry, who then was led away by the two Lestrange brothers to their rooms. Harry liked their small apartment since it was the only one of a Death Eater that didn't look totally Slytherin. Not that he had anything against silver, green and black, but in his opinion a bit of variety would do them more good than harm. Their rooms were held in different kinds of blue and the Chinese decorations, photos and picture gave them a light Asian touch. All in all Harry found the atmosphere quite relaxing and even homey. He sat down on the same sofa he had already spent two nights on and motioned for the brothers to take a seat as well while he unpacked his book bag, extending a copy of Rudolphus' marriage contract, the book of conduct for the Lestrange family, a book on archaic Wizarding law, which was still intact and several newspaper clippings.

"You found a way out of this marriage", Rudolphus said in awe and Harry nodded, "How?"

"Well, let's start in the beginning, okay", he drew the book on Wizarding law closer leafing to the marked page, "Here it says that unless it is expressly stated otherwise that the family laws outrule any contract regardless of which nature. And in your contract there is nothing about that so your family law is to be observed first. And there it says that you can't marry into a family with which you are in a blood or family feud if there are less then fifteen generations in between."

"That's all good and fine, but there is no family feud between us and the Blacks", Rabastan said disappointedly, but Harry continued unperturbed, "Correct, but there is a family feud between you and the family which cost your ancestor Robert Lestrange his magic and caused the death of his sister's baby in 1846. The Songloires."

"But there isn't anyone left of that family" protested Rudolphus but Harry once again shook his head, "It is true that there isn't anyone left with that name, but there are with their blood. In 1924 Saladin Songloire married Immaculata Black and took her name. I have their marriage announcement here", he shuffled through the papers till he found the right clipping and handed it to Rudolphus, "That was the last time the name Songloire was ever mentioned in the newspapers since Saladin took his wife's name, quite curious, isn't it? They had one son Castor who married and then they had three daughters Narcissa, Andromeda and Bellatrix..."

"How did you get all this information?", Rabastan asked awe-struck after he had leafed through all the newspaper clippings and checked the information in the different books.

"From different people", Harry shrugged, "Percy, Sirius, Narcissa, Tom..."

"Wait a minute", Rudolphus interrupted, "Narcissa helped you? Why?"

"Because I asked her to", Harry answered nonchalantly, "And I know you're proud of your acting skills, Rudolphus, but it was plain for everyone to see that your marriage with Bellatrix isn't exactly happy and that she's the cause of that."

"So this is true", the older Lestrange clarified, "I can divorce her."

"If you want to you can have your marriage annulled", Harry nodded, "It's your decision now."

"Of course, I want to, Harry, thank you", Rudolphus hugged the small boy fiercely, "But won't I have to marry your godfather then? While I'm not exactly averse to that idea, I don't want to destroy his life..."

"As the head of the Lestrange family you can just claim that the Black family deceived you and therefor you couldn't marry into that family again", Harry explained, "All you have to do is make a second contract with Sirius since he's also the head of house and state that the previous contract is to be considered invalid."

"You must have spent a lot of time on this", Rabastan remarked, drawing the petite boy in for a hug, "Thank you."

"You're welcome", Harry smiled up at them, "Just promise, you won't draw Sirius into this."

"I will make that contract with him", Rudolphus assured him, smiling slightly, "Do you want to stay the night?"

Harry shook his head and untangled himself from the four strong arms wrapped around him: "I promised Neville, I'd be in the tower tonight."

"We'll escort you there", Rabastan offered, "If you're really sure you want to do that. You were a bit... hysterical after you had tried it last time."

Harry blushed and ducked his head: "Ron was looking at me strangely", he defended himself, "It was just not right, but it's okay now. I have it under control."

"If you say so", they murmured simultaneously and got up, taking position on either side.

Harry smiled at their action and walked between them up to the Gryffindor tower. However, before they reached the right floor Harry suddenly halted and cocked his head to the side, listening intently, before he spun around and crouched down in front of an alcove: "Why are you crying, Tanea? Is something the matter?"

"Harry", a blond mop of shoulder-long hair appeared from the shadow before two hands were thrown around Harry's neck, "They think I'm evil and a Death Eater. They hate me."

"Why ever would they think that?", Harry asked gently patting her back, "Ravenclaws are supposed to be intelligent."

"I told Ashley that I spent two days with you and that You-know-who was rather nice then", she sobbed, "And now the whole house knows..."

"Come on", Harry pulled the young Ravenclaw to her feet, "We'll talk some sense into your house."

"Do you want us to come with you, Harry?", the younger Lestrange asked, but Harry shook his head after a bit of hesitation: "No, I'll be fine. Go and get some sleep! But will you help me tomorrow to train my beaters? They're horrendous."

"Sure thing, Harry", they both accepted the kiss to their cheeks and then watched as the young boy led the younger girl towards the painting of a eagle.

"To be or not to be", he whispered and the portrait swung open like a door, revealing a broad staircase that led up to the blue painted common room.

The wall colour however was hardly noticeable because of all the bookshelves around the circular room.

"Potter, what are you doing here?", Michael Corner asked from one of the many tables on which he had sat in a kind of study group with Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot, "Who told you the password?"

"A little snake", Harry said calmly sitting down in the next best chair, "We need to talk. I always thought that the house of Ravenclaw was renowned for its high intelligence and logic and yet I had to find out that you're as prejudiced and biased as the other houses. You call someone evil because they were open enough to judge others by their actual behaviour and not from hearsay. I won't defend my husband because firstly he doesn't need it and secondly I know that he committed a lot of crimes, but I really must ask you to treat a first year girl more fairly. I'm here to give you information, if you want it, so that you can form your own opinion instead of just rehashing what someone told you. What do you say?"

"Who says you're not going to lie?", Padma Patil asked snidely.

"I say it, but other than that you have no guarantee", Harry shrugged, "You either do believe me or you don't- it's your decision. I promise to speak the truth, but not to answer every question."

"Are you really married to You-know-who?", a timid second year asked.

"Yes, I have been married to Voldemort for about a month", Harry replied, "I've spent most of the holidays since then in his castle with the inner circle of Death Eaters."

"But you still contend to be on the Light side, Potter?", Michael sneered, "You make goo-goo eyes at him **and** his Death Eaters **and **their spawns and you still claim to be on our side?"

"No, I never claimed anything, Corner", Harry said evenly, "I never had the opportunity to chose a side and I was never asked what I really wanted. I don't support Voldemort, but I fight for my friends and my family and that no-one will have to die because of me again. I found some of those friends over the holidays: the Malfoy family, Rabastan and Rudolphus Lestrange and even Professor Snape. Maybe they're just manipulating me, I don't know, but at least they pretend to care about me. If you ask me now on which side I am, I'd say I'm still on the Light side, but I have no intention to betray those I care about or make them unhappy."

"So you would rather You-know-who once again wages war on the whole Wizarding World than speak up to your so-called friends?", a voice in Harry's back called out- he didn't bother to turn around before he answered: "No, Voldemort signed this contract which bound me to him by marriage, but with it he also agreed to leave both the Wizarding and the Muggle World in peace. We can't break the contract without experiencing so much pain that we would at least be out cold for more than two days straight, meaning should he decide to revive the war our world would have enough time to react. And if you're honest we never stood much of a chance against him in the first place. I told him that if he killed one more person, I will kill him and I intend to keep this promise."

"What's with you and Dumbledore then and who performed that spell?", a seventh year with a big tooth gap between his front teeth asked, but for the first time it sounded more curious than aggressive.

"He lied to me about my parents, about my godfather and about myself", Harry sighed tiredly, "He tries to control me and mend me into his perfect little tool. I can't accept that anymore and I don't trust him. Today he once again attacked both me and Voldemort verbally, risking him to lose his temper. Maybe I shouldn't have done what I did, but I don't regret it and would do it again most likely. It was a simple spell and not dark or dangerous. It will wear of in several days."

Some people snickered as they recalled the image of Dumbledore, the garden gnome.

"Why did you ignore him the first part of this week and then suddenly let him kiss him like you loved him dearly", Padma asked, proving that she shared the gossiping genes with her sister, "And do you love him?"

"We had an argument- a rather nasty one, maybe those who were in Voldemort's class on Monday gathered that much from our conversation", the Gryffindor answered, blushing lightly, "We're in a unforeseen and not exactly welcome situation and it is his fault, though I might have overreacted, but he apologised to me and he tries to help me. And I forgave him- after all I can't stay angry with him for the rest of my life, now can I? And to the second question, I don't think I love him but I came to see him as a human being rather than a maniac mass murderer and most of the time he seems to care about me and respects me..."

"What, You-know-who apologised to you, the boy-who-he-couldn't-kill", someone asked astonished, "He really must care about you..."

"That's what I think", Harry returned, "But he's the heir of Slytherin and though I don't agree with the general opinion that all Slytherins are bad, they are masters of masks and I'm pretty sure, he has an ulterior motive. But at the moment I will just accept his behaviour and hope that I have enough time to react when he reveals his true intentions."

The room lapsed into a pondering silence until Harry got up from his chair: "Well, if you have no more question I will go and I hope that you will use your brains in the future because judging someone by his acquaintances is just stupid."

"Just one more question", Michael spoke up, "Will you resume the DA?"

Harry frowned: "Why would I? From what I gathered from Voldemort's lesson plans his classes should be quite salutary. Is he so bad a teacher?"

"No, not really", the other boy replied, "But it's kind of contradictory when we learn how to defend ourselves against the Dark Arts from a Dark Lord."

"The DA was founded because last year we had no means to really learn anything", Harry gave back, "I think Professor Riddle is quite apt to teach us at least something and so at the moment I have no intention of starting it again, but I haven't really been to his class yet and I would like to get a picture of it before I make a final decision. Though if some of you have any complaints or just want to learn something else as well, tell me and I'll see what I can do..."

"That's sounds acceptable", the head-girl Sophie Sweetin answered for the whole group, "Thanks for your visit. We'll think about your answers and decide whether or not you can be trusted, expect our answer in the next few days."

Harry inclined his head as a sign that he had understood and took the words as his cue to get some rest in his own house for the first time this year.

Neville was already fast asleep, as was everyone else for that matter and so Harry concluded that the need to speak with him couldn't have been this urgent and after several warding, silencing and security spells he crawled into his red and gold four-poster bed, drawing the curtains shut and went to sleep at least for a few hours.

* * *

**Don't forget to review!**


	34. Classes

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

**Author's Note: Here's another long chappie for you as a reward for all those reviews! I'm still amazed! And quite speechless, if you hadn't noticed!

* * *

**

**34. CLASSES**

About at the same time Tom also went to bed, though sleep was as far from his mind as it could get. Instead he thought back to the information he had got from the nurse after she had led Severus and him to her office:

The nurse pointed at two rather uncomfortable-looking chairs that stood in front of her desk that although loaded with papers, folders, ink bottles, diagrams, books and empty potion bottles still seemed to emit an air of order: "Take a seat. I just need to find Harry's folder."

Soon after she banged what seemed to be the biggest folder on the table and took a seat in her swivel chair.

"Does this whole folder belong to Harry?", Severus asked surprisedly, eyeing the thickness of it warily.

"This and two others", the nurse clarified, "That boy spent more of his time in the infirmary than in the Astronomy tower... So, we need to discuss which changes have to be made. Harry is not to drink any potion regardless of which nature: Even a healing potion could have a negative affect right now since Harry's body would have to change it into something the baby can digest with out taking harm and that again wouldn't be good for Harry's health, understood?", she said sharply and the two wizards nodded, "Severus, I need you to make all these potions for Harry", she handed him a rather long list, "Those are potions especially used during pregnancies and I want to be prepared when Harry gets himself into trouble again."

"Some of those will take me a while", the Potion's Master frowned in thought, "Can't you ask St.Mungo's to provide you with them?"

"Not without drawing attention", Madam Pomfrey gave back, "A school is not supposed to encourage teenage pregnancies and since some of the potions are only for pregnant wizards it would be rather suspicious."

Severus nodded in understanding and after going through the list again, mentally enumerating all the ingredients he would need to purchase or look for in the Forbidden Forest, pocketed it.

"Okay, the second point would be your classes", the nurse skimmed through to the folder till she found the correct page, "Severus, I assume you know which potions are not to be brewed even near Harry? Good. Just don't let him drink any potion and look to it that he inhales no toxic or damaging vapours. Professor Riddle, when you decide to make a practical lesson pair Harry with someone who knows what they're doing and take care that he isn't hit by any curses, especially not to his abdomen or back because that could provoke him going into labour or internal bleeding. Otherwise try to make him use his magic so that he doesn't develop an overload, but prevent him from releasing too much of it at a time, meaning don't make him lose his temper. Clear so far?"

The two men once again nodded and Madam Pomfrey continued: "I also need you to brew some potions against sickness and nausea as well as Nourishment Potions, Severus, they are listed at the bottom. I need them as fast as possible so that Harry can gain weight and come nearer to what he's supposed to be weighing. He's not supposed to use any spells altering his appearance long-termly or wear a glamour for more than an hour. It's more or less normal for him to get dizzy a lot and even faint from time to time since his body is still adjusting to the changes and because of his general poor health. I allowed Harry to both continue Quidditch and his Material Arts lessons and as long as he is careful it should give him an outlet, but that doesn't mean that it is no risk. I also plan to teach him some basic healing spells and let him help me here so that he uses more of his magic and isn't completely helpless should something happen. I gave Harry a book on male pregnancies and it would be good if you read it, too, Mr. Riddle."

"I bought a few books as well", Tom returned, "And I have a question on something that I read."

"Ask away", the witch inclined her head, "Though I don't claim to be an expert on this either."

"Most of those books contended that male pregnancies are extremely dangerous for the 'mother' and that the mortality rate is more than fifty percent...", he trailed of unsure how to word his question that had been tearing away little pieces of his heart constantly since he had read this the first time- Harry couldn't die!

"Professor Riddle, the chances are indeed high, I won't deny it", the nurse looked grave, but still managed to glare at him, "Given Harry's poor health to begin with it is most likely that he will die giving birth or lose the child. I would have agreed on an abortion immediately, but it is Harry's decision and since he decided to keep the baby the only thing left for us to do is try to make it easier for him."

"So he will die?", Tom said evenly, only his mask as a Dark Lord keeping him from bursting into tears.

"I didn't say that", the nurse argued, "When you use Avada Kedavra how high are the chances the victim will survive it? Harry is special. I'm sure that if he really wants to he can pull through and belie all those statistics, which brings me to my last point. You are to make him happy, am I understood? He may not ever feel unwanted or hated or even just slightly disliked if you don't want him to die. Anymore questions?"

"What about...", Tom asked, but the nurse spoke up once more before he could finish his question: "Sex. I knew I forgot something. As long as you don't hurt him, apply pressure to his abdomen or tear him, it should be fine at least for the first few month. We have to see how good he will be taking to the pregnancy before deciding it for sure. Anything else? No, well I'm always here if you have anymore questions and I'll see you on Saturday."

She had shooed them out then and Severus had gone down to start on the potions while he had stood there for a moment, the realisation hitting him that Harry was really pregnant and might very well die if he wasn't careful. The last few words still resounded in his head now_, as long as you don't hurt him... or tear him_. What was he supposed to do now? He knew that Harry had never told anyone about their sex-life not even the nurse, from how she had answered, and that Harry never complained, but the fact remained that he kept hurting his small husband no matter how hard he tried not to. It wasn't entirely his fault, he reasoned, while he tossed from side to side, he always thought, Harry was prepared sufficiently and how was he supposed to know otherwise when Harry never showed his feelings in that aspect, but just accepted it? But there had to be a way to make him open up a little, maybe a spell or a potion... As soon as that thought entered his mind he got up and walked hastily over to where he stored his personal books.

Surprisingly enough they were not all on Dark Magic but rather covered a variety of subjects amongst others Mind Magic. He remembered that there was a chapter in the book describing ways to facilitate Leglimency and though he had no intention to really invade Harry's mind there was sure to be something that would crack his shields. After searching through it for a while he found something suitable. It was a potion, but one that wouldn't even come near the baby but focus its energy on Harry's conscious. It was even stated that it would neither interfere with other potions nor cause the wizard in question any harm and was therefor often used with rape victims who had got pregnant so that their psychiatrist could better respond to their patients' needs.

He conveniently ignored the small note saying that the potions needed the consent of the patient and his own sarcastic inner voice telling him that this was the **perfect** potion for Harry.

After scanning the recipe he noticed that he would have to start now for it to be ready in time for Sunday since it needed to simmer for twenty-four hours and had to be administered about eight hours prior since it only destroyed the mental shields gradually and so he set to work immediately, thankful that he didn't need to ask Severus for any ingredients.

The Potion's Master wouldn't approve, he wasn't even sure that he approved, but desperate situation called for desperate measures and after all he only did this to help his Harry- even the empath had said that it wasn't good for Harry to keep everything bottled up inside.

The next morning he had to use a concealment charm to hide the dark circles under his eyes even after he had taken a Pepper-up Potion and a shower. Still he was rather satisfied with his work. The potion was simmering in his walk-in closet and since Harry had his own now he didn't need to fear Harry would come across it anytime soon. He had finally come to terms with his decision, persuading himself that it was all for the best, and he had the sixth years Defence class directly after breakfast meaning he could walk Harry there, without seeming too possessive.

All in all he was in quite a good mood as he walked into the Great Hall and it only got better when he spotted Dumbledore's empty seat.

He had been early as was his habit and only Professor Sprout, already with dirt under her fingernails, and Severus were already sitting at the teacher's table, the later one looking slightly more grumpy than usual since he, too, hadn't got much sleep because he had worked on the potions for Harry.

Gradually more or less awake students and teachers filled into the hall, starting on their breakfast without much conversation. Finally Harry entered, accompanied by the other Gryffindor boys except Ron, who had arrived a bit earlier with his sister and his new-found girl-friend, Hermione Granger, who glared at Harry as he dared to laugh at something Seamus had said.

The smallest Gryffindor boy shortly after excused himself from the group and made his way over to the Slytherin table, but was intercepted only half way there.

"Harry", a vaguely familiar voice called him from behind and as he turned around he came face to face with Sophie Sweetin surrounded by the Ravenclaw perfects; he raised his eyebrow enquiringly at them, "We discussed the information you gave us yesterday", the tall girl continued, "And we all agreed that we might have been a bit too quick to judge you and that our behaviour wasn't really worthy of the house of Ravenclaw. We also decided to believe you since the only chance we have against the Dark is you and if you really betrayed us, which we now very much doubt we might as well side with you from the beginning. So going from this, the house of Ravenclaw declares its allegiance to you and we will help you to the best of our abilities."

"The Ravens will take you under their wings", Luna declared dreamily and Harry sent her a grateful look.

"As you mentioned yesterday, Ravenclaws are renowned for their logic", Michael added, "So we will keep an eye on Professor Riddle and inform you should we find anything of importance."

"Thank you", the Gryffindor inclined his head respectfully, keeping back his laughter.

The Ravenclaw delegation turned around as a whole and walked back to their seats, a few of them sending small smiles in Harry's direction, who returned them whole-heartedly before he continued on his way. He kissed Blaise and Draco in passing wishing them a good morning, but not leaving them the time to respond or return the greeting before he made his way up to the head table, where he greeted Rudolphus and Rabastan in the same manner and then slipped into Tom's lap and another piece of parchment into Severus' hand that comfortably rested on his thigh.

"Good morning, Tom, why didn't you sleep well?", he asked concernedly, half turning around and caressing his cheek.

"Good morning, sweetie", he whispered the endearment in Harry's ear, "You know, normally you ask first whether or not the other person slept well before asking why..."

"Ah, but that would be boring", Harry chuckled, "And don't evade the question."

"Would you believe me if I told you that I missed you so terribly that I couldn't sleep?", he asked, accepting the cheese sandwich Harry had made for him.

"Most likely not", Harry gave back, "So do I get my answer or not?"

"Most likely not", he teased, kissing Harry's neck, "But I can tell you it's nothing bad and you'll find out in a while. What was with you and the Ravenclaws, anyway? And did you sleep well?"

"Oh, I had a talk with them yesterday because they were treating Tanea unfairly and now they decided to spy on you to help me, not that I told you of course- that wouldn't be very conducive, would it? And yes I slept fine, thanks for asking."

"I have a feeling I don't really want to know why they decided to spy on me", Tom murmured just as the morning post arrived.

A bunch of owls immediately scooped down to the teacher's table and landed in front of the Dark Lord, either sticking out their legs, waiting to be relieved of their weight or just dropping whatever they carried on the table. The last owl to arrive carried the newest edition of the Daily Prophet and impatiently hooted till Tom had paid her before taking off again.

"Oh, seems like I got my chocolate", Harry exclaimed happily after he had freed all the owls of the packages they were carrying, "Ten galleons say they published the information from my History exam."

"You're right", Severus murmured from his right, pointing at the huge headline, "Seems like they got the information from a reliable source..."

Harry chuckled, while he opened the first package, revealing a box of chocolates: "This is great!"

"You shouldn't eat those, they might be poisoned!", Tom snatched them away from his small husband, who pouted and scowled at him: "They think you're allergic to it, why would they poison it? And I'd really like some chocolate now, please?"

"And why would I eat something, I'm allergic to?", the red-eyed professor demanded to know, "And if you really want some chocolate you can ask Dobby."

"Because you don't know you're allergic to it, duh", Harry rolled his eyes at him, "Every time you eat chocolate the reaction is so violent that you pass out and forget everything."

"You had too much time, didn't you?", Tom asked exasperatedly, "At least let me check it first, okay?"

Harry nodded, smiling up at him and settled more comfortable in his embrace, cradling a cup of steaming hot coffee in his hands, while he decided which package he should open next when a rummaging from one of the boxes with little holes in the top caught his attention. Carefully he drew the box closer and opened it coming face to face with a greyish fluffy Niffler, who peered up at him through black beetle eyes.

Harry cooed at it, gently lifting it out of his tiny prison: "Look at this, Tom, isn't it cute?"

The Dark Lord looked the small creature over disdainfully.

All he could come up with was that it probably had a lot of flees and would pass sicknesses to Harry, who had started to pat the little thing: "You don't intend to keep it, do you?"

"No, it would most likely rake up our rooms", Harry sighed, "But you could still be a tad bit nicer, it surely wasn't very comfortable in that box..."

"I didn't put it in there", he defended himself, "Now, eat your chocolate while I dispose of this... thing."

"It's a Niffler, Tom", Harry scowled darkly at him, "And I don't want you to **dispose** of it."

"Fine, I'll give the Niffler to Hagrid while you eat at least your chocolate", he corrected, "I wasn't planning to kill it, you know? Just to banish it to the Forbidden Forest", he slid out of his chair, making Harry sit down in it.

Harry sighed, leaning back into the soft cushions, taking the box of chocolates with him. He had just finished the second piece, when the nausea started again.

"Harry, take this", a small vial was pressed in his palm, but as he looked at the Potion's Master he was once again eating his breakfast as if nothing had happened.

He downed it quickly after reading the diligently written label 'Anti-Nausea Potion', feeling at least slightly better and not like he would throw up anytime soon: "Thanks", he whispered back and got up, "I'll see you in class, Professor."

"Where are you going, Harry?", he was half-way across the hall as Tom caught up with him and circled his slim waist with his arms, "Don't I get a reward for getting rid of that Niffler?"

Harry turned around in the embrace, ignoring all the stares he received: "Do you think you deserve a reward despite being so nasty earlier, Tom?"

"Oh, I think I do", Tom smirked down at him, "After all I got you chocolate."

"What would you consider adequate, o, chocolate provider of mine?", Harry practically purred.

"A kiss, should do for now", he smirked down at the small boy.

"Well, then come down a little", Harry beckoned him closer and Tom obediently lowered his head so that Harry could reach up to him, "Here you go", Harry kissed Tom's nose teasingly, immediately pulling back.

However, Tom did not even think about letting him go and pressed the slight boy closer: "Tut, tut, tut, I know you can do better than that...", and without further negotiations he scooped down and once again ravished Harry's mouth in front of the whole school, "I'll walk you to my class, wouldn't want you to get lost on the way, now would we?"

He slung his arm around Harry's waist and led him out into the hallway before anyone could join them, using the empty corridors to snog his husband twice before they finally reached his classroom.

He really needed to get a grip on his lusting or he would go too far sooner rather than later and scare Harry away. Just as he was about to ask if it was okay for him to kiss Harry, the petite boy swayed dangerously and went deathly pale, seconds later he just collapsed, only his fast reflexes catching him before his head hit his desk.

"Harry", he called alarmedly, crouching down next to him.

Harry didn't give a sound and just lay motionless on the ground, though it seemed like even the last bit of colour had drained from his face. Not knowing what else to do he conjured up a wet towel and began to carefully dab Harry's pale skin with it.

"What happened?", Harry groaned after a while and his emerald eyes fluttered open.

"You fainted", Tom answered, "Are you feeling okay or would you like me to bring you to the infirmary?"

"Not again", Harry murmured annoyedly and turned around to his side, his hands rested against his stomach, "Can you get me some water, Tom, please?"

"Sure thing, lovely", the tall man conjured a simple glass, filled it with water from his wand and then helped him sit up so that he could swallow more easily, "Anything else I can do for you?"

"No, no, I'm fine", Harry assured him quickly and got up from the floor, sliding into the next best chair, "It was nothing really."

"If you say so...", he murmured disbelievingly, but dropped the subject, unwilling to make Harry angry yet again, "Let me catch you up an what you missed so far, though from the essays you wrote, which were pretty good by the way, I gathered that Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Zabini kept you up to date. I have copied my notes on the lessons so you can just look them through and if you have any questions you can ask me, okay, Harry? Also I spoke to Madam Pomfrey and I want you to train with either Boot or one of the Slytherins since the second part of this lesson will be practical. I will also perform a shielding charm around your abdomen to ward of any stray curses, but if anything should happen or if you don't feel well, I want you to tell me immediately, alright?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders uncaringly, Tom scowled at him, though he seemed more worried than angry and then with a wave of his wand opened the door for the other students. Draco and Blaise purposefully strode in as the first ones, their heads held high and faces impassive, beating Terry Boot and Padma Patil, who had planned to sit next to Harry and sat down in those chairs.

"You alright there?", Blaise whispered from his right, noting the unusual paleness and slightly damp skin from the towel.

Harry nodded, relaxing when he felt their presence next to him and noted that a group of Ravenclaws had taken the seats behind them while Ron and Hermione took seats in the very back, something totally uncharacteristic of the bookworm. Neville had given up on Defence and Harry was sure that only his parents influence had enabled him to stand up against his grandmother's high expectations as had most of the Hufflepuffs, who had mostly chosen Charms or Herbology as their main classes.

"Good morning, class", Professor Riddle greeted them indifferently and in a voice that suggested a lot of detention should someone decide to return the greeting, "I hope for you that you've all done your homework, which was on... Mr. Weasley?"

The red-head stared back as hostily as he dared as he shrugged his shoulders: "I did do it, **Professor**."

"Ah, but that was not the question, was it?", Tom mocked deceivingly sweet, "And I sincerely wonder how you accomplished it without knowing the subject? You see, Mr. Weasley, your last few essays were good, but they might have been more interesting to read if it wasn't only a shortened version of what Miss Granger wrote. And with shortened I mean that you left out every second sentence. Care to explain that to me?"

"I didn't cheat", Ron said stubbornly, "Everyone knows that Hermione never allows anyone to copy her work."

"Oh, well then I sincerely apologise, Mr. Weasley and of course Miss Granger", the red-eyed man scoffed, "I'm sure, then it won't be a problem for you to name your sources, Mr. Weasley, and summarise what you wrote for those unfortunate ones not having the privilege of being here during the last few lessons."**(1)**

Ron gaped like a fish out of water: "I used my school book and the last homework was on... on cursed objects."

"Your school book, I see", Tom shuffled through his papers till he found Ron's homework, "And a dictionary, I take it? Maybe you would like to give us a synonym for malignant? You used it in your essay... No? Well, then since you obviously can't prove to me that you didn't cheat, you'll find your grade appropriate", he handed Ron's and Hermione's parchments back, both with a Slytherin green T on it before handing out the other papers.

"Professor, you graded my essay incorrectly, it obviously should have an O on it", Hermione said snottily.

"Miss Granger, I assure you the T is correct", Tom answered without turning around, "Since I must assume that you assisted Mr. Weasley in his fraud. Maybe you should convince him to not hand his homework in today- not, of course, that I think this was anything more than silly coincidence..."

"This... This is unjust", Hermione screamed enraged, "I did nothing wrong. I'll go to Professor McGonagall."

"That's where I was yesterday", he informed her coldly, "And she totally agrees with my decision to also take 100 points from you, however, if you don't believe me feel free to go, otherwise I would advise you to sit down again so that we can finally commence."

"What have you got?", Draco hissed in Harry's ear, not waiting for an answer before he snatched Harry's parchment from the thin fingers, "An O? Bet Smart Ass wouldn't like that, would she?", he smirked impishly and before Harry could prevent him from doing anything the blond's arm shot in the air and to flip exaggeratedly, "Professor Riddle, Sir, why did Harry get an O?"

"Mr. Malfoy, I don't know what you're complaining about, you got one as well, is there a problem with that?", Tom asked irritatedly, particularly when he saw his husband duck his head and try to hide from the sneers thrown his way, "Five points from Slytherin for asking stupid questions and delaying the lesson."

"Sorry, Sir", Draco said absent-mindedly and squeezed Harry's hand under the table, "I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't think."

"Well, today's lesson will be on vampires, since you skipped them in third year", Tom started in earnest after everyone except Ron had handed in their homework, "Would anyone like to hazard a guess why you didn't cover them then? Mr. Finnigan, perhaps?"

Seamus looked more surprised then anything, especially since no-one else was trying to get the teacher's attention, not even Hermione, who seemed to be sulking: "Maybe, because they are too dangerous for little midgets?"

"Not exactly", Tom returned, "Another guess, Harry, perhaps?"

"Please, Professor, could you call by my last name?", Harry asked pleadingly.

"Why would I, we are married, Harry", he really didn't see the problem.

"You're still my professor", the small boy argued, "Please, Sir?"

"No, now answer the question", he couldn't always give in, he reasoned, trying to ignore Harry's sad face.

"Vampires like veelas, giants, dwarfs, merpeople and elves are classed as non-humans and not as creatures like for example werewolves", Harry said flatly, "This is so because you can actually converse with them and because they have human features. On top of that vampires and werewolves don't exactly get along."

"Good, Harry, five points to Gryffindor", the green-eyed boy didn't even look up, "Now, I want everyone to think of ways to win a fight with an belligerent vampire. You can work in groups, but in the end I want a different possibility from everyone. You have ten minutes."

"Harry, what are you doing?", Blaise whispered urgently, "It doesn't look like Defence."

"It isn't", Harry answered shortly.

"What about the vampires?", Draco whispered from the other side, "We're supposed to talk about them, not do... whatever you are doing."

"And Tom is bloody supposed to respect my opinion", Harry hissed dangerously, "First he says that I can stay in Gryffindor since he's my teacher and now he just changes his opinion..."

"Time's up", Voldemort called through the class and made a picture of a aggressive-looking male vampire appear on the blackboard, "You can present your solution sequentially. Why don't you begin Mr. Thomas."

"I thought that since it's practical common knowledge amongst Muggles that you can kill a vampire by driving a wooden peg through its chest, I'd just conjure one up and try to stab it", Dean said calmly.

"Provided that you can conjure up a wooden peg and are able to stab a vampire in a blood lust with it before it sucks you dry, that's a possibility", Voldemort nodded, "Mr. Finnigan."

"Holy water?", the Irish boy said questioningly, "Though I guess it's pretty unlikely that I would have something like that with me."

It continued in that way, everyone giving more or less reasonable answers, till Hermione responded in her usual know-it-all voice: "_Sinesanguine_, it's a curse that will cause a vampire to bleed to death."

"Indeed, Miss Granger, it is the defence given in the book you undoubtedly read", the professor returned, "However, this curse is very painful for the vampire receiving it and they will most likely be even more aggressive towards you, which would result in your death so we will look for an other solution. Thank you, Miss Granger, your solution please, Miss Lovegood", Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, grumbling under her breath.

"I have an amulet made of Silverhorned Mouse-skin", she sighed dreamily, "It will protect me."

"I doubt that very much, but anyway...", Tom trailed off and called on the next person in line, Terry Boot, who suggested using _Solifer_ in order to produce artificial daylight.

"Very good. Mr. Malfoy?"

"I would conjure up some garlic", Draco said imperatively, "Then get rid of the vampire and after that immediately take a shower. It's no wonder vampires can't stand garlic, it smells awefully."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, make sure you remember that method", Tom had already focused on his husband, "Harry?"

"Wait a minute", Harry didn't look up and just made a shooing motion with his hand, "If you interrupt me now I'll have to start all over again."

"And what exactly are you doing, Harry?", he scowled down at the delicate boy, "And why are you doing it in my class?"

"Not now, Tom", Harry murmured absent-mindedly, doing what looked to be a pretty difficult calculation in one corner of his paper, "Go amuse yourself elsewhere..."

The Dark Lord would have liked to gape right now if only because he had nothing better that would express his surprise sufficiently, but, alas, Dark Lords don't gape so he settled for crossing his arms over his chest and staring down at the working boy, trying to find out a.) what he was doing, b.) why he was doing it and c.) what he had done to provoke it.

"Yay", Harry exclaimed happily after he had compared his results with the ones Simon had written down for him, "Did you want something, Tom?"

"I want an answer to my question and I want to talk to you after class", he returned.

"I was doing maths because you are being an idiot and I don't see why I should fight a vampire in the first place", Harry answered.

"Forgoing the insult and the fact that you ignored me, why wouldn't you fight a vampire?", he sighed acquiescently.

"Why would I?", Harry gave back, "What is the situation? Or do you expect me to believe that a vampire would just attack me because they feel like it?"

"That is not the point, Harry, say... It's just hungry", Tom almost groaned, "Could you just answer the question?"

"Well, then I would let them drink", Harry stated matter-of-factly, "I don't see the point in fighting with someone who's just trying to save his or her own life."

"You can't just let a vampire drink your blood, Potter", Hermione sneered from the back row, deciding that it was once again time to flaunt her knowledge, "Even you should know that, though I guess it's not so easy to memorise such simple facts with being brainwashed..."

"Might I inform you, Hermione, that I can very well let a vampire drink a bit of my blood and that I have not been brainwashed", Harry answered coldly.

"Harry, what would you do if you didn't want the vampire to drink your blood?", Tom seized the control back, "And, Miss Granger, Gryffindor just lost five points and if you speak out of turn again you will spend the weekend scrubbing cauldrons or doing something as equally unpleasant."

"I would talk to them, but should that for some reason or other fail, I would use _Cateraqua_ to conjure up a waterfall all around the vampire and then try to find a solution that is acceptable for both of us."

"And how is that supposed to help?", Hermione spat contemptuously.

"Please, explain the theory that caused you to give that answer, Harry", Tom sighed, "And detention for you, Miss Granger, I have warned you. Ten points from Gryffindor."

"Most vampires are deathly afraid of flowing water", Harry said calmly, "They are not afraid of lakes or swimming pools, but rivers, waterfalls and sometimes even rain scare them. So this spell would confine them to an area."

"Finally an answer", the red-eyed man muttered, "Mr. Zabini."

"My grandfather was adopted by a vampire", the Italian boy shrugged, "They would never attack me or someone close to me."

"Whatever, the second part of the lesson we will train those techniques. You can use the one you suggested or if you didn't come up with an usable one you can just chose the one you like best. Please form groups of two. Mr. Zabini, just imagine yourself in a position where you have horribly offended a vampire and your family connections don't help you. Miss Lovegood, let's assume that you lent your reliable amulet to a good friend of yours. Oh, and Mr. Thomas perhaps you can chose another method, which you can actually try out without stabbing Mr. Finnigan. Begin."

With a flick of his wand the desks levitated to the sides making space in the middle, while the students split into pairs. Draco offered training with Padma, who had been trying to get his attention since the beginning of the lesson (he had ignored her skilfully) so that Harry and Blaise could work together and Harry sent him a grateful smile.

The rest of the class was spent trying out the different ways and if it hadn't been for the water-soaking charm Tom had used on the floor, they would have had to swim by the end. Ron, at Hermione's urgent suggestion had tried the incantation described in the book, but had only proceeded to cut his finger and had been complaining about how much it hurt getting on everyone's nerves till Tom told him to pack his things. The Dark Lord then sent Hermione down to the dungeons, where she should ask Severus for her detention. Suffice to say, she wasn't very happy about this.

Draco instead of using garlic had settled for the daylight spell and Padma trying to impress him had tried to do the same, although her result seemed to be little more than a Lumos.

"Class is over", Tom, who had been walking through the room, correcting or making suggestions, called, "As homework I want you to make a list with the characteristics of vampires and decide which solution you would prefer to use in which situation. Class is dismissed, Harry, come here."

The small Gryffindor obediently walked over after he had packed his things and crossed his thin arms over his chest.

"What has got into you?", Tom asked after the last student had left the room and after he had locked the door, "Is there a reason why you were so disrespectful or is it just hormones?"

He regretted the last few words immediately when Harry's eyes not only shone with anger but also with hurt: "Yes, there is a reason. You treated me like my opinion didn't even count, Tom. You kept calling me Harry, though I asked you not to do so..."

"What is so wrong with this?", Tom hissed back, "I have called you Harry in front of the Death Eaters, in front of your friends, in front of the whole school and now I'm suddenly not allowed to call you Harry in my class? What is the logic behind that?"

"Tom, I do respect you", Harry whispered, "But I want you to respect me as well. I was always good in Defence against the Dark Arts- the only thing everyone accepted me to be good in besides Quidditch- I know we're married and I know everyone else knows, but I don't want them to think that I only get good marks because I'm sleeping with the teacher..."

"Oh, Harry", he hugged the petite boy reassuringly, "I didn't know it meant so much to you. I will call you Mr. Potter from now on, okay? But you should know that you have a lot of other qualities than Defence and Quidditch and that you really deserve those marks... Your answers today were really good."

"Thank you, Tom", Harry sniffed, "And I'm sorry I was so cheeky..."

"No, Harry, don't be sorry", he gently kissed along Harry's jaw-line, "I should have listened to you and I'm sorry what I said about you being hormonous- that wasn't very helpful. But tell me, would you really allow a vampire to feed from you?"

Harry smirked up at him: "I already did", he freed himself from the light embrace, "I'll see you at lunch, Tom, can't come late for Severus' lesson", leaving a-not-quite-gaping-but-being-near-it-Dark-Lord-behind.

"Everything alright between you two?", Draco pushed away from the wall.

Harry nodded sending him and Blaise a grateful smile: "Thanks for waiting."

"It was understood", Draco and Blaise swept down in a deep bow, "We forwent the shining armour, but we're still two devilishly handsome princes charming, coming to your aid, fair maiden."

"You do know that it's not a good move to piss me off, don't you?", Harry shoved them playfully, "You can look for another fair maiden to save- or scare to death. And now if you will excuse me, I have a Potion's lesson to attend to."

"What a coincidence", Blaise exclaimed, quickly catching up with the delicate wizard, "So do we, don't we, Sir Draco? Let us be your companions for this adventurous journey..."

"Coincidence, Sir Blaise?", Draco called incredulously, "It's clearly without ambiguity fate that made us meet in such an unholy place to protect the brave, but slightly diminutive Sir Harry, who is off to challenge the Lord of the Dungeons and Poisons..."

His mouth continued moving, but no sound escaped and as Blaise tried to inform him of this he found himself in the same predicament: "Don't complain", Harry shrugged disinterestedly in response to their glares, "I warned you. Besides, at least now Severus will have a reason to take points from me."

This reasoning didn't appease them in the least and so, if it had made a difference, the would have fallen into an accusing silence during their short and not so adventurous journey to the Potion's class room.

"Mr. Potter, I see that you still have not learned how to tell the time", Severus sneered at the green-eyed boy as he walked into the classroom followed by two sulking Slytherins, "Ten points from Gryffindor. Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Zabini, please take a seat."

The three boys sat down at the only table still free, Harry once again in the middle and the two older boys began to poke him in the rips to make him reverse the spell, but the Gryffindor only swatted them away and continued unpacking his things.

"The recipe is on the board", Severus scowled at everyone, who had been looking more or less expectantly at him, "I want a batch of this potion from every table by the end of the lesson and yes, Miss Granger, that means that you work in groups and not that you brew a potion and assume it is the only one worthy of my attention."

"Does one of you know what this potion is supposed to do?". Vince had turned around in his seat and now inquiringly looked at the blond Ice Prince.

"It's a Blood-Replenishing Potion", Harry murmured, as Draco obviously couldn't answer, "Blaise, would you please stop sulking and fetch the ingredients?", the dark-skinned boy inspected his fingernails uncaringly, "Well, then not. Let me do all the work, why don't you?", Harry scoffed and got up, "It's not like it will influence your marks."

"What is wrong with you two?", Pansy glared at them through narrowed blue eyes, "You should know better than to let Harry even near the walking encyclopaedia..."

Two silent heads snapped around to where Harry was fetching their ingredients. Hermione had timed it so that they reached the boomslang skin at the same time and rudely shoved Harry to the side, who tripped over one leg of the table and fell to the floor with a small cry, curling up around his stomach.

"Watch it, Boy Hero, not everyone loves your ass as much as You-Know-Who", she hissed down at the pale boy, stepping on his hand as she made her way back to her seat.

"Granger, a second detention, today at eight o'clock with Mr. Filch", the Potion's Master spat angrily, "Mr. Potter, let me see your hand."

He quickly ushered Harry into the now empty storage room, pushing the door as if by accident so that it was only slightly ajar. The small boy, had tears shining in his eyes. The black-haired man carefully pushed Harry's sleeve back, examining the damage done.

"It's not broken", he assured the trembling boy softly, "I'll bandage it up and then it should be fine. Anything else wrong?"

"I'm fine, Severus", Harry smiled a little, "Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?", Severus asked surprisedly.

"You seem tired and bitter", Harry muttered, "I don't want you to be like that."

"I just stayed up long last night", the Potion's Master murmured, "But thank you for worrying about me, Harry."

"Not a problem", Harry smiled gently up at the thin man, "Would you like me to help you with your potions? I know you have a lot of additional work because of me..."

"If you want to...", he fixed the last bandage, "However, you know that I like brewing potions and I like helping you. Now, let's go back, okay, Harry?"

He replaced his indifferent mask and strode back into the classroom. Blaise and Draco- Pansy had freed them from their Silencing Spell- were sedulously preparing all the ingredients, while the water was boiling in the cauldron.

"Mr. Goldstein, add some sandalwood- I don't want my classroom destroyed just yet. Five points from Ravenclaw", Severus stalked through the rows of working students, "If you hadn't noticed your cauldron is overflowing, Mr. Macmillan, five points from Hufflepuff. And Miss Granger, this is not a let's-throw-everything-we-have-into- that-shining-little-copper-thing-lesson so why, pray tell, did you feel the need to grind wormwood?"

"Because it belongs in a blood-replenishing potion, Sir", Hermione stated snottily.

"Oh, well good you mentioned it, because obviously I'm totally incompetent when it comes to potions", the dark-eyed professor returned sarcastically and Hermione's face turned a furious red, "I just thought that thistle would look just **lovely**... Five points from Gryffindor. Mr. Potter, would you care to enlighten us, why the recipe clearly says thistle and not wormwood?"

"Because if you use wormwood the potions is more likely to explode", Harry said softly, "And you don't trust such dunderheads as us to understand the fine art of potion brewing, Sir."

"Don't use such foul language in my classroom, Mr. Potter", Severus snapped, but for those who knew him well enough a small glimmer of amusement was evident in his black eyes, "Five points from Gryffindor."

"You okay, Harry?", Blaise asked concernedly, "Let me chop this, okay?"

"I'm fine ", Harry smiled at him, "I'm sorry, I made you angry..."

The two boys mentally rolled their eyes as Harry once again took all the blame. They both had embosomed the younger boy with the vibrant green eyes and too many secrets and though he was in Gryffindor, most Slytherins had come to expect the boy-who-lived in the company of the two best-looking Slytherin boys (at least if you could trust Pansy Parkinson's hit list of the most eligible bachelors).

"We shouldn't have made fun of you for being so small", Draco answered while he handed the next ingredient to Harry, "After all we all were little once..."

Harry growled warningly at him, but the blond just threw an arm around the small shoulders and ruffled the black hair, laughing at the indignant look he received.

* * *

**(1) My English teacher always says that so if it's wrong you can blame him...**

**Do you want to review? I'm sure you do...**


	35. Quidditch

**Disclaimer: Really, if I were J.K.Rowling and came up with all those wonderful characters, I'm pretty sure I would have better things to do than to write at fanfiction- for example writing the seventh book and earning a lot of money, so no, I don't own this.**

**Author's Note: I definitely won't update tomorrow because a.) I have practically no time to write anything and because b.) my computer and I are at war at the moment and Erwin (that's my computer) won't let me open my Words without several new starts... **

**I hope I will be able to update on Friday and that my brother fixes that problem, but don't be angry if it doesn't work out. **

**Also it was pointed out to me that I referred to Hermione as Mrs. Weasley in the last chapter, but I fixed it now and all I have to say in my defence is oops.**

**Then Luna also kind of slipped into the Defence lesson and I'm too lazy to rewrite it and since she doesn't appear very often anyway I'll leave her where she is.**

**I think that is all for now, thanks for your reviews. I promise I have read them all and thought about it, but right now I'm too tired and on top of that too busy to answer them. I hope you understand. I really, really appreciate your comments and I sincerely thank Cateria for helping me with my punctation and Buffy's Knitting Kneedles for pointing out the mistakes in the last chapter (and for your information, I am German and yes I think this rips-thingy has something to do with my pronunciation: I once was at the university to see what it is like and all this stuff and there was this professor, who told us that Germans to say the last syllable very hard, like instead of saying dog we say something like dock or in this case instead of saying ribs we say rips). Well, I could go on thanking all of you, but then I could reply your reviews just as well and please don't think that I appreciate your commments any less just because I didn't mention it here.**

**

* * *

**

**35. QUIDDITCH**

The afternoon found Harry, Jack Sloper, Andrew Kirke, Rudolphus and Rabastan standing at the Quidditch pitch, each with their broom in one hand and a bat in the other.

"Okay, Andrew, Jack, I conjured up a target over there", he pointed at one side of the pitch, where there was indeed a wooden wall with five rings on it, "We will throw those balls in the air for you. They are exactly like Bludgers only that they don't attack so your task will be to hit the aim, preferably in the middle. Okay?"

The two boys nodded and mounted their brooms, hovering on eye-level with the aim while Harry gave the Lestranges each two balls.

"Do you have a shield up?", Rabastan whispered while they all flew over and Harry nodded, throwing the first Bludger, which Jack bet into one of the seats on the sidelines.

Gradually the shots became more focused and after one and a quarter hour the hit rate had increased to seventy-five percent.

"Come down", Harry called, catching the last Bludger before it hit the ground, "Those last few ones were pretty good. I think we can try something else now... Do you have a bit of time, Rudolphus, Rabastan, or do you have something else to do?"

"Not really", Rudolphus squeezed Harry's hand encouragingly, "We're up for the next round."

"Great, I want you two to try to hit us with the fake Bludgers", Harry said calmly, "And no, I haven't lost my mind- and we will shoot them back. Come one, not so slow! You do want to win against the Slytherins, don't you?"

"We always won against Slytherin", Andrew whined, "Their team isn't any good."

"Things change", Harry scowled at them, "They have better brooms, they have a better Keeper at least when they have unsettled Ron only once and they definitely have better Beaters. And I have no desire to be hit by a Bludger shot by my own team-mates so you will train if you don't want me to quit the team."

"Alright, alright", the burly boy held up his hands in surrender, "No-one denies that we need training."

They once again pushed off the ground, this time all armed with bats and started their training, though not before Rudolphus and Rabastan both had woven their own Protection Spells around Harry's lithe form, who tolerated it scowlingly.

"Hey, Potter, we booked the pitch for today", Harry dodged the Bludger aimed at him and scooped down to where the whole Slytherin team stood with Draco in the lead, "Take your little puppies and clear the field for the pros..."

"No need to be rude", Harry landed next to the tall blond, "And I need the field, too, so since you are here to find a new seeker I'll help you and you help me. This way everyone will be happy."

"Who says I need your help?", Draco asked testily.

"I say so", Harry kissed his cheek, "Trust my judgement. Oh, Vince, Greg, it's great you are here will you help my two Beaters? Please? You can hit them as hard as you want as long as you don't break their bones. It's a good training for you, too, isn't it? Oh, thank you", he hugged the two tall boys, who obediently climbed their brooms.

"Harry, could you at least allow me the pretense that this is still my team and my decision?", Draco pouted and Harry immediately stepped back: "Of course, I'm sorry."

"I make a deal, okay?", the blond said, offering his hand, "Your beaters can have one side of the pitch and Vince and Greg will help them. In exchange for that you'll help me find a suitable Seeker and you answer one question, just one question and you can veto two times, deal?"

"Okay", Harry said in a small voice, wincing slightly when Blaise arms' closed around his waist: "We only want to help you, Harry, promise. Let's sit down! Half of Slytherin signed up for the trying-outs, this'll be a long day..."

The dark-eyed boy sat down crossed-legged and settled the smaller boy between his long legs, wrapping an arm around the slim waist.

It indeed was a while till the number of possible future seekers had decreased to four: the oldest a seventh year girl, Ivy, though Harry thought it would be stupid to take someone who was writing their Newts and who would be gone after that year; then a rather small fifth year with the name Isbell; a boy in the same year with curry-coloured hair and eyes of almost the same colour called Silas and the last one Gerid, a fourth year. Harry's personal favourite were the two fifth years, but he had kept mostly quiet so far and let Draco handle the Quidditch players.

"So, how do you suggest we find the perfect Seeker, Harry", the blond had his hands on his hips and tapped his foot as if he had already waited for an hour or so.

"Let them catch the Snitch blindfolded", Harry shrugged nonchalantly.

"And how are we supposed to do this, Potter?", Ivy said rather neutrally, "It's not possible. You have to see the Snitch."

"No, you have to feel it", Harry corrected, "You have to hear the little flutter of wings, feel the slight breeze when it's near you, the magic radiating around it. Close your eyes, I'll show you."

He stood up and summoned the golden Snitch from the box, catching it with ease while Ivy after she had received a nod from Draco closed her eyes.

"I'll let the Snitch circle your head with a distance of one metre", Harry said, holding the tiny ball in place with his wand, "Point at it."

Ivy frowned, scrunching her forehead up in concentration before she slowly pointed straight ahead to where Harry stood: "No, I'm directing the Snitch with my wand. Listen to the sound, don't you hear the buzzing?"

Everyone seemed to be holding their breathes as the Seventh year cocked her head to the side and then hesitantly pointed to her left.

"Good, now I'm going to move it, try to keep pointing at it", Harry nodded and slowly levitated it around her head and though she lost it a couple of times, the general direction was mostly correct.

After her Gerid tried his luck, but for some reason he always pointed too much to the left and he sighed disappointedly, though Harry told him that he would learn it with training. Isbell was next and she did pretty good, however not as good as Ivy, but Silas after a short while of orientation had his finger trained on the Snitch almost all the time.

"It's not that bad as long as the Snitch is so near you, but how are we supposed to find it when it's on the other end of the pitch?", he said after he had finished, "I doubt that anyone can do that."

"You just have to listen more closely", Harry shrugged, "Of course it's different with all those people around you screaming and cheering, but it's still a handy additional skill. We wouldn't want to have the Snitch hovering over your ear and you not noticing it, would we, Draco?"

"I'm shaking with laughter", deadpanned the blond, "If you say it's possible, show us, catch the Snitch blindfolded!"

"I don't mind", Harry smiled at him and released the Snitch, which immediately disappeared, and allowed the other wizard to wrap a black cloth over his eyes.

He carefully mounted his broom, pushing only slightly off the ground before hovering back down in order to judge his altitude and then spiralling up in the air. He stopped in mid-air, searching for that small tingle of magic that betrayed the presence of the Snitch.

At the moment it was too far away, but before he had time to change his position he heard the sound of something speeding towards him, something much bigger than a Snitch and even before he registered the shouts from Rudolphus and Rabastan he dodged the stray Bludger so that he sat on his broom upside down, his legs wrapped around the broomstick.

Everyone gave a collective sigh and someone even cheered as he regained his seat and continued his search. Five minutes or so later he distinctly noticed the fluttering of wings and the characteristic signature of magic almost directly under him near the ground and dived, pressing himself flat against his reliable Firebolt, a carefree smile spreading across his face and a small whoop of joy escaping his lips. It became more difficult to locate the Snitch with every metre he dived because of the magic of the Slytherins, which covered that of the Snitch, though now he could rely more on his hearing and when he became aware that the Snitch was preparing to move again, he just let go of his broom, falling freely for the last metre, and landed safely in Draco's arms, smirking up at the shocked look that met his eyes after he had taken of the blindfold, the golden ball still clutched in his hand.

"And that, my dear Draco, is the reason why Gryffindor will win the cup", he kissed the blond's cheek and handed the Snitch over.

"Harry, never do something like this again", Rudolphus screamed horrified, shaking the small boy by the shoulders, "You can't just drop off your broom like that. What if Draco hadn't been there?"

"I knew he was there", Harry said softly, "Please stop shaking me."

The muscular man stopped immediately: "Sorry, I guess I'll just go back to shoot some Bludgers", he mumbled and turned around.

"I didn't mean to scare you", Harry hugged him from behind, "But I knew what I was doing. I'm not suicidal."

"It looked like that for a moment", Rudolphus said lowly, "What would we do without you?"

Harry didn't answer that question and just tightened his hold: "What would I do without you?", he whispered back.

"We won't leave you, Harry", he ruffled the black hair, "Go, sit with Blaise while we try to teach your Beaters so that they don't shoot anymore Bludgers at you."

Harry hugged him once again before he sauntered over to the oldest Slytherin boy and snuggled against him, watching sleepily as the four possible Seekers tried to catch the Snitch, though not blindfolded. Soon after his eyes closed completely and his breathing evened out- this pregnancy made him more tired than he was used to, though the nightmares were a lot better now- maybe he was finally healing.

"Wakey, wakey, sleepyhead", Draco murmured in his ear, "I thought you wanted to help me? Who should get the job?"

"Silas", Harry mumbled sleepily, "He's got potential and enough time to make something out of it."

"That's what I thought", Draco agreed and went to inform his new team-mate while Harry once again snuggled into Blaise, who chuckled lightly: "Am I comfortable?"

"Mhm", Harry looked up at him, "Where are Rudolphus and Rabastan?"

"They left ten minutes or so ago because Kirke has a meeting with the Gobstone club or something like that", Blaise answered, "They said that if you wanted to train later you should just come and find them."

"Okay, next training is Monday five o'clock", Draco called and the Slytherins nodded, "Silas, you should use the time until then to fly a bit on your own. See you then."

The other students recognised it as the dismissal it was and went to either take a shower or back to the castle while Harry got to his feet and helped Blaise up: "I guess you want your answer now."

"Yes, I'll just ask you three questions and you can chose which one you want to answer, okay?", Harry nodded stiffly, his hands clenched into fists, "Why were you so afraid of Vince and Greg? What happened to you at your relatives'? What is your darkest secret?"

"That is three times the same question only worded differently", Harry said painedly, "You'll get your answer- I need to fetch something first."

He turned away from them, walking quickly back to the castle, ignoring their calls and only walking faster when they tried to catch up with him. He hissed the password to the secret passageway and immediately walked into their bedroom, ignoring Tom's surprised greeting. The Dark Lord followed his small husband concernedly, but left him alone as he found him sitting on their bed with a simple black book in his lap. He had seen Harry writing in it quite often and decided to give him some privacy, resuming his position in his armchair.

Just as he had settled comfortable and inked his quill with his preferred green ink, hovering centimetres over the Defence homework of some Gryffindor first year (the only good thing about those were that they weren't very long yet) there was a frantic knock on the door.

"Is Harry here?", Draco asked, not granting himself the time to greet the Dark Lord.

Tom raised one black eyebrow, but answered: "He's writing his diary in the bedroom, but you can wait in here for him. I don't want anyone to get suspicious, because you're lingering in front of a blank piece of wall."

He stepped to the side, granting them entrance and motioned to the sofa. The two students looked quite worried, which in turn made him worried about Harry.

"Did he look upset?", Blaise asked nervously after they had sat a while in silence.

"As far as I know he only writes in his diary when he's upset", Tom returned, "What, pray tell, did you do to him?"

"We made a deal with him and now he has to answer a question out of three", Draco sighed, "I guess it wasn't very fair of me to just put the same question in three different ways."

"No, it wasn't fair", Harry said from the steps, the little black booklet in his hand, "But I got your answer. Read this, everything you want to know", he threw the book at the blond, "And now go, it's not like you will want to have anything to do with me after you know how fucked up I am. Go!", he let the door swung open and stared at the two boys once again tuning out their words until they dejectedly walked out and closed the door behind them.

Harry slumped over and leant heavily against Tom, who had went to embrace him.

"Hey, shh, don't cry. Whatever they might find out they will not abandon you", Tom murmured, combing through Harry's hair while the small boy shook with tears.

"They'll hate me", Harry sobbed harder and clutched to Tom's robes, who had moved them to the sofa and pulled Harry into his lap, "They'll hate me!"

"They don't even hate me, Harry", he tried to reassure him, "Whatever you think you did wrong can't be worse than what I did."

"Yes, it can!"

"Did you kill someone? Did you torture someone? Did you humiliate someone?", Harry shook his head each time, "What could be worse?"

"I did nothing", the small boy cried, "I allowed it to happen."

"I'm sure you did your best to protect everyone but you", Tom said softly, "I'm sure you blame yourself, though it really is not your fault. And I will kill them if they hurt you."

"I don't want you to kill them- they are my friends", Harry's grip tightened almost painfully.

"And that is exactly the reason why they won't hate you", Tom answered, rubbing his back.

They sat in silence for over ten minutes before Harry looked up at him through pain-filled eyes that almost broke his heart: "Do you really think that?"

"Of course, precious", he kissed the mop of wild hair.

"Thank you", Harry mumbled and pressed himself closer to the warm body, "Can... Can you please hold me for a while?"

"There's nothing I would rather do, kitten", he whispered to the small boy and closed his arms more firmly around the delicate body.

They sat like this for a short eternity until Harry lifted his head from the now wet, black robes and kissed Tom on the lips, blushing and ducking his head as he became aware of what he had done: "I'm sorry."

"And I'm delighted", Tom put a finger under Harry's chin and made him look up at him, "I kiss you all the time, Harry, and if you want to kiss me you're more than welcome to do so. May I kiss you?"

Harry blushed an even darker shade of pink but nodded nonetheless, purring appreciatively as Tom's quick tongue slipped into his mouth while his hands caressed his back.

"Let's go to bed, okay?", Tom asked after he had regained his breath, "Why don't you change into your pyjamas?"

"Okay", Harry mumbled and got up, making his way over to the door that led out into the corridor.

"What are you intending to do out there?", the red-eyed man asked from the sofa.

"My pyjamas are still in the tower", Harry replied, "I wanted to fetch them."

"It's already past curfew and I think you were upset enough for one day", he pulled him back to the sofa, "I'll look for something suitable to wear, okay? I'm sure I'll find something and in the meantime you can take a shower. I'll put them in front of the door and I promise I won't even look in that direction."

"Thank you", Harry hesitated a moment, but then once again pressed their lips together before he hastily locked himself in the bathroom; Tom couldn't contain a chuckle.

* * *

**Review? Perhaps? Maybe? Please?**


	36. Diary

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.**

**Author's Note: I bought new house-shoes! Yay! Now I finally have warm feet again! Just wanted to tell you so that you can share my joy! And my brother fixed my computer, obviously and surprisingly enough his solution didn't include a reinstalling, which means that my documents are still there! Yay! I'm in a really good mood. And although I'm not absolutely happy with this chappie it was rather easy to write so I hope you like it. And I finally came around to answer all your reviews, thanks so much again. It motivates me to write as often as possible and even more often, which is not exactly good. Well, not good for me, I guess #smile#**

**Anyway, this chapter contains mentions of RAPE and ABUSE. I thought I shpuld warn you...

* * *

**

**36. DIARY**

Meanwhile in the Slytherin Sixth year dormitory of Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini the mood was far from amused. The two boys both felt remorse because of how they had extorted the answer to their question from Harry. They had planned it of course beforehand: How they would make it look like Harry only had to answer one innocent question and that Harry once he had given his promise wouldn't break it. But they hadn't foreseen that he would be so hurt by their action. However, they both agreed that it was a little late for doubts now and so, sitting on Draco's bed (because Blaise's was far too messy), they hesitantly and at the same time eagerly opened Harry's diary. The first page was completely empty, but the second one was filled with Harry's messy handwriting:

_Our English teacher, Miss Ophelia, said we should start writing a diary to improve our writing skills. She said that if we didn't know what to write about we should start with some facts about ourselves, like e. g. how old we are or what hobbies we have. She said she wouldn't read what we wrote because it's supposedly very personal. I can't see what's so personal about all this stuff, but I guess it would be very boring to read everything everyone came up with._

_Especially Dudley, he's my cousin and at the moment Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon are trying to help him with his homework. Aunt Marge is here, too. She isn't really my aunt though, because she's my uncle's sister, but Aunt Petunia said it would be rude of me to call her just Marge. But she thinks I'm rude, ungrateful and disappointing anyway, so I don't see the point. She always says that she would have put me in an orphanage because my parents are dead. _

_They died when I was only a year old in a car crash. My aunt says they were drunk and that's about the only thing I know about them because Aunt Petunia doesn't like to talk about her sister, my mother. She's still very angry with her for burdening her and her family with me. _

_I live with them, with Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and Dudley. There last name is Dursley. My name is Harry James Potter and I'm ten. Uncle Vernon said once that I'm a good-for-nothing freak when I didn't finish my chores. He works for a drilling company and my aunt says that he's a very important man- I guess that's a lot of work._

_My hobbies are cooking, gardening, cleaning, being beaten up by my cousin, screamed at by my aunt and hit by my uncle when I don't finish my chores. Dudley never has any chores and I even have to tidy up his room and Aunt Petunia says it is like this because I don't belong here and because I would have done them a huge favour if I just died alongside with my parents. _

_I don't really mind the chores though, Aunt Petunia is pretty busy, too, and she needs a little help. Simon says that children are not supposed to work so hard, but I guess that's the guardian's decision. Miss Ophelia said that we should help our parents and so I think I'm just going to help the only family I still have. _

_I used to dream about a man on a flying motorcycle with the nicest smile who would come and get me and tell me that my parents are still alive, but I know this is nonsense. For one motorcycles don't fly and Uncle Vernon would go overboard if I told him a story like that- he doesn't like things that are not normal and because of that he doesn't like me. But no-one really does. _

_Well, Simon perhaps, he's my best friend and he says that he's an empath, which is a person who can read others' emotions, and his mother says that she's one, too. They say that it's a gift as well as a curse like those superheroes in Dudley's comics. I'm not allowed to touch them, but I had to one time because he had stuck it to the wall with his bubblegum. Piers, his best friend, and he bet me up after that and I couldn't finish my chores so Uncle Vernon became really angry and locked me in the cupboard. _

_I think I might have swallowed I spider. Simon said that you eat at least seven spiders a year in your sleep. I think that's kind of gross and I tried to sleep with my mouth closed for a while, but then it was kind of hard to breath so I gave up on it. Simon said that as long as I don't notice it's okay. Simon is really clever like that, he always helps me with maths and I then have to help Dudley. I don't think that I'm helping him very much because he always demands that I do his homework and if I don't he either hits me or begins crying. He never really cries though, but Aunt Petunia is always on his side and screams at me to do his homework to make up for my bad behaviour. On the other hand when I do it for him she's angry at me, too, so it doesn't make much of a difference. _

_My favourite subject is Arts because Mr. Brush always let's us do what we want and because Dudley isn't in the same class. Mr. Brush always says that he's giving us the space to develop into a personality. I don't think I'll ever be a personality, but that's okay. _

_I'm invisible to almost everyone around me. My Local History teacher didn't even know I existed- when he told everyone his or her mark he stopped at my name and asked if there was a Harry Potter in this class. I had to stand up and tell him that I was here and everybody laughed about me because my glasses were broken and my clothes didn't fit. Not that they ever. I always get Dudley's hand-me-downs and because he's so much bigger than me they never fit. _

_I'm smaller than anyone in my class. Maybe it's because I live in a cupboard or because I don't get to eat much. But Simon is rather small, too, and he doesn't live in a cupboard so I think that has nothing to do with it. _

_The school counsellor said I should eat more and spend more time outside when I went to see him after I landed on the roof of the school. I don't know how I did it, but Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were really angry and the counsellor thought I was trying to commit suicide. I don't know what suicide means, but I will look it up to find out what I did wrong so that I don't do it again. _

_Aunt Petunia is calling for me to make something to eat for everyone so I better go now before Uncle Vernon comes to get me._

The two Slytherin's exchanged a shocked look: the boy-who-lived, the Saviour of the Wizarding World, their friend Harry, had lived in a cupboard and was treated like a slave by his relatives. Sure they had expected that he wasn't treated like royalty or as good as he deserved, but they had rather expected that it had only started a few years ago and not when he was ten or most likely even before that.

There were several blank pages after that till the messy handwriting started again, though this time the writing was smudgy at times and the pages were a little wavy from being hit by water. There were also some brown stains:

_It's about seven weeks until my birthday now and Aunt Petunia has sent me into my cupboard because I was bothering her. I'm so glad she's back from the station. She took Aunt Marge to the station because she's finally going back. I must have done something incredibly wrong because Uncle Vernon was really angry, at least I think he was, he was so weird. I think, I know what I did wrong this time. _

_Aunt Marge hadn't wanted to see me anymore because I'm so ugly to look at and so they told me to stay away for a couple of hours. It was raining, but there's something about the rain I like very much so I did as told. Uncle Vernon kicked me down the steps and I scrapped my knee and he told me that I wasn't worth living under his roof. _

_I didn't really know where to go after he had slammed the door shut and I guess I got lost because the next thing I can remember clearly is this man asking if I wanted to play and how he grabbed me. I told him no although Aunt Petunia said once that it was very rude to say no, but she also said to Dudley that he shouldn't speak to strangers. I'm of course not Dudley so maybe I shouldn't have said no because the man got really close then and somehow I lay in the mud and he on top of me. _

_I could smell the alcohol in his breath, he smelled like Uncle Vernon when he's really angry. I was so scared. I don't know why but he began to finger between my legs and somehow my trousers had disappeared. He thrust something hard into me and it hurt, it hurt so much, more than any beating before had ever had. _

_I must have passed out because the next thing I remember is that I was in a hospital and a tall blond-haired woman sat next to me. She asked me how I was feeling and I said I didn't know. Then she asked me if she should contact someone and I told her that my parents were dead and she got this really sad look on her face. The door opened and another man walked into the room and said his name was Pimpernell and if he could ask me some questions. I said yes and he asked if I remembered what happened and then what had happened. I told him. _

_I guess I must have started crying again because the woman pressed a handkerchief in my hand and said that they would find the man who had done this to me. She said what he did was called rape (I still have to look it up) and was a very bad crime and that it would be punished heavily. _

_They went out then, but I could still hear them talking through the door. Pimpernell said that he couldn't believe someone would do this to a child and that he would snap the guy's neck should he ever get his hands on him. And she said that I looked still so sweet and innocent and I didn't deserve something like that. I don't know about the sweet and innocent part but I guess I deserved it. She went back in then and told me that she would bring me back to my relatives. She said I shouldn't worry and that she would explain everything to them. _

_She didn't though and Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia told me that this was the only thing I'd ever be good for and sent me to my cupboard. That night when Dudley and Marge were sleeping Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon came to my cupboard and she started hitting me with one of her cooking spoons, yelling at me how ashamed she was and that I was ungrateful for bringing the police to her house. It was already morning when she finally tired and then Uncle Vernon took over for several hours. I couldn't move when he finished and so they had to make their breakfast on their own this time. _

_It was Marge's last day here so Aunt Petunia and Dudley took her to the station. Uncle Vernon started a second round then and grabbed me by the hair and pressed my face into the mattress. He had a knife and he cut my trousers off my legs. I could feel the blood running down. I deserved it, he said, and he called me his little slut, whatever that is, but maybe it means that he loves me. Because it didn't feel like he was angry as he raped me. It hurt, it still hurts, but he said that I was his little boy-toy. When he calls Dudley his big boy, that's a sign of affection, said Aunt Petunia when I asked her why he never called me that so I guess it's a term of affection, too, I'm not really big like Dudley. _

_But I'm still glad he stopped. He said it was our little secret and that I shouldn't tell anyone. He said that he would teach me how to be a good boy. My whole body aches now and it really smells like blood in here. _

Blaise was holding his hand to his mouth like he was going to be sick and, judging by the colour of his face, that was what was going to happen. Draco looked pale, too, and his hands were clutched around the little book in his hand.

"Oh, Merlin", Blaise finally choked out, "Oh, shit, how can someone be so cruel?"

"His own uncle raped him", Draco exclaimed, suddenly furious, "This stupid, fat Muggle raped his ten-year old nephew and Harry not only thought he deserved it, but also that it was a sign for his affection."

"Do you think Harry still thinks that?", Blaise asked unsurely, "That he deserved it?"

"Have you heard him talking? Every second sentence he says is a bloody apology!", Draco replied furiously, "I'm going to kill those stupid Muggles."

Blaise, although he looked like he was agreeing wholeheartedly, shook his head: "Let's find out first what else they did to him and then we have to look after Harry."

_I can't believe what just happened. It all started with those letters addressed to me. I never got any letters and then there was the first one, which Uncle Vernon tore into little pieces, and then so many uncountable ones. My relatives didn't want me to read them, Uncle Vernon was really angry and he raped me again. _

_I have looked it up and it's defined as the crime of forcing another person to submit to sex acts, especially sexual intercourse, but I guess, it's alright for Uncle Vernon to rape me since he's my uncle and he's only trying to teach me a lesson. _

_I'm in my cupboard right now, but after the letters even came on Sunday my uncle had taken us to a little hut on an island. He even bought a gun. At midnight the door burst open, there was a storm outside and the biggest man I've ever seen came in. His name was Hagrid and he brought another one of those letters. He said that I was a wizard and that there was a school called Hogwarts, where I would be going to learn magic. My parents were wizard and witch, too, he said and they weren't drunk when they died. He said they didn't die in a car crash, but were killed by a Dark Wizard called Lord Voldemort. _

_He was really afraid to say his name though, even though he somehow disappeared. Hagrid said that I was famous because of that because Voldemort had tried to kill me, too, but couldn't and instead vanished and that I got my scar because of that curse. _

_I guess it makes sense that my relatives don't like me very much now that I'm a freak. Aunt Petunia said, she always knew I would turn out to be as abnormal as her sister. _

_Hagrid took me to Diagon Alley, which is the street where wizard buy their things. We went to the Leaky Cauldron and everyone wanted to shake my hand, I wished they would have stayed away from me. Especially Professor Quirell, for some reason I got the impression that he didn't like me, though he was nice enough. It was like everybody knew more about me than I and most likely it is true. _

_I couldn't believe it at first when Hagrid told me I was a wizard, but then he asked if never anything strange had happened around me. Of course there were a lot of such things and I remembered that my aunt and uncle always were very angry afterwards. For instance after that glass separating the boa constrictor from Dudley just vanished and that I talked to her, Uncle Vernon was so mad that he taught me another one of his lessons as soon as Petunia was out shopping and Dudley was visiting Piers. _

_We went to Gringotts, I can't believe how much money I have, I need to find out how too change it into Muggle money so that I can give some to my family so that Uncle Vernon doesn't need to work so hard, maybe then they will have more time to love me. Hagrid was feeling ill after the ride down to the vault- there were those little carriages- and so I went to buy my new robes without him. _

_There was this other boy in the shop, he acted a lot like Dudley and he kind of scared me. He talked about Quidditch and school houses and I felt so stupid because I had no idea what he was talking about. Then he made fun of Hagrid and I told him that I thought Hagrid was brilliant and he asked whether my mum and dad were magical. He said they shouldn't allow people brought up by Muggles (it means people without magic) to go to Hogwarts because they didn't know anything. But I want to go to Hogwarts, I just wished Simon could come, too, but I want to learn more about my parents and maybe how to help Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. _

_I'm sure magic can be useful, though I'll guess I'll go to Hufflepuff. That's one of the school houses and it sounds like the house for weaklings like me. The boy said he would go to Slytherin. I don't want to be in the same house as him, that would be like living with my relatives all over again and I don't want to offend him. I know I shouldn't think about them like that, but I wished it would be easier to love them. I annoy them and it would be the same if I was sorted into Slytherin. I don't want to get on his nerves. I plan to avoid him and don't get in his way. _

_I got a lot of books and potion's ingredients and I intend to read them as soon as I can move again without dripping blood everywhere. I got a wand, too, and the seller, Mr. Ollivander, said that it had the same core as Voldemort's and Hagrid bought me an owl for my birthday. I named her Hedwig, she's snowy white and the first present I ever got. I told her to stay away so that Uncle Vernon doesn't kill her. _

_He wasn't very happy when I came back with all my new things and he would have burnt them, but Aunt Petunia didn't want the other wizards to find out how I'm treated here. I don't understand, because they treat me like I deserve to be treated and gave me more than could be expected from them. I have to think about that later on. Maybe things like this are different for Wizarding children. Vernon raped me again._

Blaise had given a snort at what Harry had written about Draco and Draco had elbowed him in the rips, but this amusement had dimmed as the continued reading:

_I know now that it's wrong that it's not supposed to happen. What they are doing to me is abuse and child molestation and it's punished very hard particularly in the Wizarding World. I tried to tell that to Uncle Vernon when he raped me again, on my second day back from school, but he didn't listen. I won't let him see me cry ever again. I won't let him break me. _

_He did it again, because a house-elf dropped Petunia's dessert she had made for the Masons and then the Ministry sent me a letter, stating that I was not allowed to do magic outside of school. I hadn't mentioned that before so he was angry. He whipped my back afterwards and now I have to wipe up all the blood and do the rest of my chores. I get the feeling he likes it. _

_Simon found out, too, but he promised that he wouldn't tell anyone if I didn't want to. And I don't want anyone to know, although I now know it's wrong there are still my family, my only family. I don't want them to get into trouble. Maybe if I do everything they say they'll like me someday. Besides, I can't let everyone down, Malfoy and Snape would have a field day if they ever found out about this: The famous Harry Potter lying in his own blood, begging for it to stop. Not that I beg, I realised a while ago that it wouldn't help any and I don't want to give my uncle the satisfaction to know how helpless and dirty I feel every time he pulls out just to slam back in._

Draco quickly brushed away a tear that had threatened to fall onto the already smudged page and Blaise took the book from his hand, not commenting on the feeling his best friend showed. He wasn't feeling much better, though he guessed it was worse for Draco since Harry also wrote about him:

_I begged Dumbledore not to send me back, but he just smiled at me and said that I needed the protection of my relatives' home and that a child needed to spent time with his family. _

_I knew what would happen even before Aunt Petunia and Dudley declared that they would go visit an amusement park for his birthday. Vernon drew all the curtains closed and locked the door and windows after they were gone, before he dragged me out of my cupboard. He started to kick me and to beat me with Dudley's baseball bat, I'm sure he broke several bones and rips. Breathing hurts. Then he told me to undress, but I refused, I knew what was coming and that I could do nothing to stop him, but I would not pretend that I liked it or that I allowed it. _

_He fetched a knife from the kitchen, a cardboard cutter, and pressed me against the wall, cutting my clothes of my body. The cuts are still bleeding. When I was in the nude he undressed, too, a heap of blubbering flesh, and grabbed me by the hair. He jerked me over to one of the kitchen chairs and plopped down in it, making me kneel in front of it. "Suck it", he ordered and pointed at his cock and as I didn't react he just rammed into my mouth, making me gag. It was so disgusting. I can still taste his seed in my mouth, though I washed it out with soap- anything is better than his taste. I threw up, too, though with little success. He raped me afterwards. It's always the same so there really is no point in describing it, too, he throws me on the bed or the floor face-down and pushes into me until he climaxes. He still calls me his little slut and his boy-toy, but lately he also started to tell me how beautiful I am. How can that possible be true? I have the feeling it's getting worse._

"How can it possible become worse than that?", Blaise choked out, "No wonder Harry is so afraid of touch and anything related to sex. And now he has to have sex with Voldemort every week. Salazar!"

Draco distressedly tugged his hair shaking his head mutely in silent denial:

_Things have changed. It's the holidays before fifth year and Voldemort has returned with the help of my blood. They all think I killed Cedric and they hate me for it. Simon says I'm an empath, too, because I know what others feel and it is like this knowledge only made it more prominent. Yesterday, it's past midnight, Dudley and I were attacked by Dementors and they wanted to expel me from Hogwarts for using magic, but Dumbledore pulled some strings and now there's a hearing. Maybe then I'll finally see Ron and Hermione again. They have been different lately, they are keeping secrets and don't tell me anything, I'm literally in the dark. _

_Sirius is different, without him and Simon I wouldn't have survived the last year. Sirius doesn't know what happens here and I don't want him to know, I don't want to burden him, he deserves to be happy. I want the only person who ever loved me to be happy. If he knew what Vernon does to me he would blame himself and it's certainly not his fault. _

_Anyway, my uncle was angry again because Dudley was pretty shaken after that meeting and he even wanted me to leave his house, but then he thought better of it and instead raped me again. Aunt Petunia and Dudley had went out to buy him a lot of chocolate because I told them it would help. He enjoys it. _

_Vernon locked the door to my cupboard and left me lying in my blood and still tied to my bed and a knife in my hole. He said he would come by in a few days. I was close to crying and I didn't dare to fall asleep because I was afraid the knife would twist in deeper if I moved in my sleep. _

_An hour or so ago the door opened, I was so frightened because I thought Vernon had come back because he decided I hadn't been punished enough, but instead it was Dudley. He looked unsure at first but after he saw the state I was in he quickly closed the door behind him and crouched next to me. I think he called my name, but I'm not sure because at the same time he untied the rope from my wrists and it hurt pretty badly- I think my wrist is broken. _

_Then he wanted to sit me up, but I couldn't stand his touch and so I curled up in the corner furthest away from him. That's a bad move when you still have a knife up your ass and I passed out. The next time I woke up Dudley was still there and was trying to bandage my wrists, the knife lay somewhere on the floor. I asked him what he was doing and he said he would explain everything as soon as he had tended to my wounds. _

_I had never tend anyone for my wounds at least not for _those_ wounds and I guess I wasn't a very easy patient, but Dudley was surprisingly patient and gentle, something I wouldn't have thought him capable of and after everything was bandaged up he tucked me in my bed and even got me a second blanket from his own room before he sat down next to me. Dudley told me what he had seen when the Dementor had tried to kiss him, his worst memory, something he had pushed away until now. _

_He had seen the one time Uncle Vernon had raped me after the incident with the boa constrictor, because Piers hadn't been home but had gone to buy his school supplies for Smeltings. He said he had suppressed the thought that his father could do something like that to me and after a while he believed himself. However, the Dementor attack had brought the image back. _

_He asked for my forgiveness for all the things he did wrong and he promised he would never beat anyone up every again and offered to bring me to the police so that I could make a report, but I told him the same thing I had already told Simon. He's still here and I'm not sure if I like the arms around my body, but it's nice to know that at least someone of my family cares about me._

"So that is why they are so close now", Draco murmured absent-mindedly, while he leafed through the book, "Harry would believe something like that."

"Maybe he really didn't remember", Blaise argued, "Think about how Pansy acted when her parents got divorced. Plus he seemed to care about Harry. I think it's more strange that one's worst memory happened to be someone else's."

"I don't know", Draco gave back, "If I found my dad cheating on my mum that wouldn't really be against me, but I would hate him for it nonetheless. Let alone when I found out he was raping someone. I never want to have my world view so drastically changed."

"Neither of our dads would ever rape someone", Blaise protested, "But I guess I understand what you mean. Let's continue!"

_There's barely a time when I'm not dripping blood anywhere. My relatives didn't take kindly to being threatened by the order and now that they know Sirius is dead they have no fear to treat me worse than ever. Aunt Petunia is away very often nowadays. Of course she pretends she doesn't know what happens when she's not there, but I know, she knows. She's merely a little disgusted, but doesn't really care. I don't know why I hoped she would. _

_Dudley takes care of me afterwards, but he can't do much because Vernon would notice. I still remember how angry he was after the first time- he thought I had done magic. I brewed a potion though that would heal some of the cuts when I was at Simon's. He says I should finally put an end to all this, that my uncle and aunt are not worth the pain, but I don't think he really understands why I'm doing this. I'm doing it because I have no choice, because if I really told the police what is happening to me, the Wizarding World would find out and they would lose hope. _

_I think it's stupid of them to rely on me to save them, but at least they have something they believe in. And I don't want Dudley to lose his parents, though he says he wouldn't mind, but they are his parents and they always were nice to him, spoilt him even, I don't think he's completely honest to himself. Besides it's nothing new and I guess I'll just survive the last two years, get rid of Voldemort and kill myself. Wow, if that isn't a nice future. I certainly don't have problems of finding out what I should be doing with the rest of my life. _

_Dumbledore says that he had just wanted to protect me and give me a chance of a childhood by not telling me the prophecy, but what he doesn't realise is that I never had a childhood to begin with. He knows what's going on here, but he still does nothing and for that I will never forgive him. Dudley is helping me with my chores right now or to be more precise he's doing my chores and ordered me to take a bath. The water is really red by now. _

"Dumbledore knows?", they asked simultaneously.

"The scheming old man knew about this?", Blaise growled dangerously, "What does he think he's proving with this? That he's almighty and can play with Harry like his little pawns?"

"I thought the Dursleys were bad, but then I have no words to describe what Dumbledore is", Draco hissed, "Let's finish this. I have a feeling that Harry needs us right now..."

_I can't believe where I am right now. In Malfoy Manor. And as far as I can assess the situation I haven't been kidnapped. And Mr. Malfoy is taking care of me, too, because Uncle Vernon had another fit when I came to fetch my things. He promised not to tell anyone what he saw if I allowed him to coddle me up. I guess he contracted the weirdness of Voldemort. I mean why would he want to marry me? Voldemort of course, Mr. Malfoy just wants me to swallow loads of potions and to stay in this really big and soft bed. It's even better than the ones in Gryffindor tower. _

_Dumbledore wanted me to go back to the Dursleys, but Mr. Malfoy said Malfoy jr. had invited me to their home- I don't think he planned it, which I guess is a good thing. I thought he only said it because for whatever reason he, too, didn't want me to go back to the Dursleys, but as it turned out he was being honest- not the part about his son inviting me, but that he wanted me to stay with him._

_And now I'm in Malfoy Manor and I hopefully won't ever have to go back to the Dursleys. Not that I think Voldemort will be any better, but at least he isn't my family. I guess the Dursleys aren't my family either, not really, only by blood. Well, Dudley is of course my family. _

_So much for the plan of my life, didn't work out as planned I guess, because I accepted this contract and in two weeks I'll be married to the murderer of my parents. Well, shit! _

"Let's go find Harry", Blaise demanded after they made sure, they hadn't missed anything, "We have to somehow convince him that we don't hate him and that we're still his friends."

Draco got up as well and, ignoring Pansy's questioning call, they jogged out of the common room and up the stairs until they once again stood in front of the entrance to Harry's and Voldemort's rooms. It was already past midnight, but the two boys paid no mind to that and knocked against the wall.

Up in the bedroom, Tom's wand heated up telling him that someone was standing in front of their rooms and, carefully extracting his hand from under Harry's shirt, he got up and walked down the stairs.

"This better be important", he growled, pulling open the door, "Oh, it's you", he deblocked the doorway and let them enter, "I'll fetch Harry for you and what you're going to tell him should better be good since he was crying over an hour because of you."

The two Slytherins nodded and exchanged a guilty look, but Tom was already on his way to his husband. He quietly kneeled down next to the sleeping beauty and kissed Harry's forehead and his nose, causing Harry's eyes to flutter open.

"You have two visitors, little one", he murmured calmly, "They are really worried about you, do you want to see them?", Harry looked more than doubtful and so he continued, "I think you should, Harry, I know you haven't been sleeping properly and that you still don't believe me."

"Okay", Harry relented and wiggled out from under the blanket and let himself be guided down the stairs: "I'll be upstairs, Harry, and I promise I won't listen in. If you need me you can call me and I'll be down in a second", Tom brushed away some of the tear-tracks and, kissing Harry's forehead, disappeared back to their bedroom.

Harry unsurely looked up at the two boys through dark lashes and shifted from one foot the other. Draco and Blaise got up from the sofa and with two long strides enclosed the petite Gryffindor in their arms, pretending not to notice the small flinch.

"You will never go back there again", Draco murmured in his ear, "And they will wish they were never born once we're through with them. Please forgive us for being so nosy?"

"Don't you hate me?", Harry sniffed, "Don't you think I'm disgusting?"

"No, Harry", Blaise gently hustled him to the sofa, "I love you like the little brother I never had and it makes me sad to know that your so-called family did something so vile and evil to you. And I think that you're the most altruistic and stubborn person I ever met. You should have told us, Harry, we can help you and we will."

"We won't abandon you, Harry", Draco reassured him, "We're your friends and we will help even if you don't want our help. You didn't deserve what your uncle did to you."

"I know that", Harry sobbed, "I know that, but why couldn't I fight him off? Why if I'm supposed to be so strong can't I even stand up to my fat uncle?"

"Because you didn't want to", Blaise squeezed his hand, "Because you thought it your duty to protect them, because you were just a child, because you'd rather suffer than hurt someone else. Because you're too good for this world. But we're here now and we will protect you."

"I'm really stupid", Harry murmured.

"No, you just believed that there had to be something good in everyone and in most cases you succeeded, didn't you?", Draco said softly, "You found something good in Severus, in my father, in Dudley, in me and the Dark Lord himself. It's not your fault that your uncle is so sick."

"Do you believe us, Harry?", Blaise asked gently and Harry shook his head huge tears rolling down his cheeks: "I'm sorry."

"That's okay you don't have to believe what we say", Draco protectively put an arm around Harry's shoulder, "Your relatives told you so many lies while you lived there- it's only natural that you don't trust easily. But we really want to help you and if there's anything we can do to make you feel better you have to tell us. But we don't expect you to just forgive us for what we did. It was unfair, we realise that, but we only wanted to get to know you better, because we really care about you."

"Is there anything we can do for you, Harry", Blaise asked mildly, "Anything at all?"

Harry looked up insecurely and pulled his legs up to his chest: "Would...", he took a deep breath, "Would you allow me to read your feelings? I can understand if you don't..."

"Of course", Draco smiled kindly down at the distressed Gryffindor, "You can read my emotions. Just tell me what I have to do."

Harry crawled closer to the blond so that he was kneeling in front of him on the sofa: "Okay, if you're sure... Close your eyes and think about me."

Draco did so without hesitation and Harry cautiously rested his small hands against his temples, closing his eyes as well. The blond felt a surge of purging energy slowly flowing through his head, leaving a pleasant feeling behind. He tried to keep focused on Harry, but it was not very easy because the energy was so distracting.

"Wow", Harry breathed out, dropping his hands, causing Draco to open his eyes, "You do care about me. Thank you", he crawled completely into Draco's lap and buried is head in the folds of his soft jumper, "Can you promise me something?"

"It depends on what you want me to promise", the blond answered, "I won't promise to stay away from you or not to lose my temper should I ever meet that son of a bitch..."

"Promise that you won't be disappointed if I can't trust you completely or when I shy away from you or when I don't want to talk to you about what happened to me."

"That I can promise", the Ice Prince of Slytherin returned encouragingly, "I'm sure you could never disappoint me."

"Thank you", Harry snuggled even closer to the blond.

"Don't you want to read my feelings for you to", Blaise asked, feeling a bit left out.

"If I'm allowed to", Harry turned around to face him, "But I don't want you to feel obligated."

"I don't feel obligated, but I want you to understand that I'll always be there for you", Blaise motioned him forward and closed his eyes, "If this is the way to accomplish that I'm more than willing to do it."

Harry once again kneeled in front of the older boy and laid his hands against his head, concentrating on what the other felt towards him. He again found concern and love, mixed with only a tad bit of pity and more than a bit sadness and anger that he had been treated so badly. Immediately after ending the connection he curled up in the Italian boy's lap, flinching slightly as Draco also wrapped himself around him, but then relaxing between the older boys, feeling safe in the knowledge that they would protect him even if it meant going against his wishes.

"Harry? Are you sleeping?", Blaise whispered and as Harry looked up he found both Slytherins staring at him, "Would it be okay for us to ask you a few question on what we read?"

The small boy nodded reluctantly and Draco asked the first question: "What happened in the holidays between third and fourth year?"

"I... My uncle always raped me once I was back home and Aunt Petunia and Dudley were out of the house- I guess it was his way to show me my place", Harry wrapped his thin arms around his shoulders, shielding his body from the other two boys, "After that he left me alone mostly because I told them Sirius would come and transfigure them into toads if they didn't treat me right. I still had a lot of work and they still hit me when I didn't finish it, but Uncle Vernon didn't rape me again. At least until one of his customers withdrew his order and he got really drunk. Aunt Petunia had to make a really **urgent** shopping trip when he came home drunk and she took Dudley with her. He told me... he told me he loved me and that if it wasn't for my body no-one would ever love me. He said that Sirius didn't love me either because I was a freak and a whore and if he ever found out how dirty and used I was he would give up on me... as had my parents. The Weasleys came the next day and took me to the Quidditch World Cup."

"Why are you still calling him uncle?", Blaise asked, "He forfeited that right, don't you think?"

"I...", he stumbled over the words, "I don't know. But if I don't call them aunt and uncle, it would be like I really had no family left. Do you understand? I always thought that family meant that you were loved and that they would look out for you if you were in trouble. I'm not sure, I can make it without them..."

"You have a family", Draco carefully cupped his face, "Sirius and Remus are your parents and if you want to I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind the job either. Blaise, Dudley, Simon and I are your brothers. Sev and Madam Pomfrey are your real aunt and uncle. Rudolphus and Rabastan are somewhere between your brothers and your uncles. We are your family, Harry, we might get on your nerves most of the time, but that is what you have brothers for. You don't need them."

"I always wondered what it would be like to have a brother", Harry murmured after a while and smiled at them.

"Now you have the chance to find it out", Blaise grinned back at him, "And as your brothers of course we're very protective of you, so... Do you want us to kill those Muggles?"

Harry violently shook his head and the two boys sighed: "We thought as much", Draco replied, "But if you ever change your mind let us know. What about the Dark Lord, is it at least okay or do we need to castrate him? That's not a joke, we already got a plan- we would need you to tell us when he's sleeping, but if you'd rather not, we still have the option to make it look like an accident..."

"No, thanks for the offer, but no", Harry smiled gratefully up at them, "Tom... I don't like it, but it's not his fault, he's trying hard not to hurt me."

"He better not hurt you, Harry", Blaise growled, but calmed down as he caught Harry's pleading look, "Just one more question, okay?", Harry nodded and so he continued, "Why were there so many blank pages in your book?"

"Oh, I used a spell to make everything invisible I didn't want you to read", Harry shrugged, "You wouldn't allow me to read your diaries either, would you?"

"Well, sorry to disappoint you, but we don't write diaries", Draco teased him lightly and began to tickle his side, "That's not very manly, though it definitely suits you..."

Harry sent him his best death-glare, however it wasn't quite as effective as usual as Blaise, too, had started to tickle his side and he was howling with laughter, trying to escape their nimble fingers.

"Are you laughing at us, Harry?", Blaise growled playfully, attacking Harry's neck, "That is not very nice, is it, Draco?"

"No, definitely, whatever shall we do with him, Blaise?", Draco said sorrowfully, "Harry, do you see that what you're doing is wrong? He doesn't even listen... I guess we have no choice- we have to give him a cold shower!"

The two boys grinned mischievously and Blaise who was a little more muscular, though they both were around the same quite impressive height, threw Harry over his shoulders, who had tears running down his cheeks from so much laughter.

"Please, no, no, I didn't mean to laugh, I surrender", Harry squeaked, but the two other boys ignored him, "Please, I surrender. I don't want to take a shower, it's cold, please? Draco, please, do something, tell him to let me down. Come on, Blaise, I'm your little brother..."

His protests were cut short as icy water hit his head and soaked his pyjama, he closed his eyes briefly: "You. Are. So. Dead", he pressed out and lunged at Blaise, who stood closer to him, taking the shower head with him and directed it at the blond, who had tried to open the door, which had closed on Harry's command.

The water splattered from the blond, who for a moment was too shocked to react, and dripped to the floor, forming a growing puddle. Blaise meanwhile tried to push the small Gryffindor off his chest, but that only earned him a splash of water directly in the face.

"And now you will apologise and promise, you'll never do this again", Harry demanded once he thought the two Slytherins sufficiently soaked.

The older boys exchanged a calculating look before they both attacked Harry at the same time; Blaise easily rolled around so that he now sat on top of the smaller Gryffindor and Draco wrested the shower head from Harry's fingers, letting the cold water patter down on Harry's chest. Harry gasped and tried to squirm away from both the water and the body on top of him, but Blaise had his hands in a tight grip and held them over his head. He really didn't want to panic, but the situation was so familiar and he felt so helpless.

"Please, please, let me go", he begged in a whisper his eyes pressed shut, "I'm sorry, please, no."

The weight on his chest immediately rolled to the side and the water was turned off, allowing him to breathe more freely. He pulled his legs to his chest and started rocking back on forth, trying to calm down.

One of the huge soft towels was put around his shoulders and someone started to gingerly rub him dry while soft words were murmured in his ear: "Shh, you're safe, nothing will happen to you. We've gone too far. Shh, it's okay now, calm down."

"It's not your fault", Harry sniffed after a while, "I'm sorry, I just don't like it..."

"You don't like it when someone sits on top of you", Blaise completed the sentence, "That's completely understandable, I should have thought about that... Sorry?"

"That water was really cold", Harry complained, drawing the towel closer and the Slytherins laughed.

"You can stay here if you want to", Harry offered, once they had got rid of all the water on the floor, their hair and their clothes and comfortable sat on the sofa, "I'm not sure how, but the sofa is extendable."

"Of course we're staying", Blaise stated matter-of-factly, "You don't expect us walk back to the dungeons in the middle of the night way past curfew, do you?"

Harry chuckled. After a bit of trouble they finally managed to extend the sofa so that it was the size of a king-size bed and they all slipped under the blankets, wishing each other a good night.

* * *

**A review for poor little me, please...**


	37. Saturday

**Disclaimer: Still not mine! Curiously enough, that doesn't change within a few days!**

**Author's Note: Firstly, I do realise that my headings aren't always all that great, but I thought it be better than nothing and it helps me keeping track of where I am right now since I tend to skip ahead...**

**Secondly, I thanks for the reviews, although I'm a tad bit disappointed this time. Thanks to all those who reviewed, nonetheless. Well, enjoy.

* * *

**

**37. SATURNDAY**

It was past nine when Tom woke up the next morning, not because his wand had heated up or even because someone had rudely interrupted his sleep, but because it was time to stir the potion he had made for Harry three times counter-clockwise and because of that the door to his closet began to glow a bright yellow, which hurt his eyes. In hindsight he could count himself lucky that Harry hadn't returned to their bedroom last night or he would have noticed the glow, too.

After he had stirred the potion and redid the Concealing Charm around the cauldron he went to have a not-so-nice cold shower because his pants felt uncomfortably tight (really, he scowled, he was beyond the age where one wakes up with wet pants) and after he had got rid of this little problem of his he got dressed and walked down to look after his husband.

What he found made him feel a peculiar mixture of jealousy and fondness. Draco, Blaise and Harry all laid cuddled up under one single blanket, limbs sticking out in the oddest of places, and Harry slept pressed to the Italian boy's chest while Draco had thrown an arm over both dark-haired young men, his blond hair spilling over Harry's back. He was sure that if they hadn't been fully dressed he would have killed them all in a fit of jealousy, but as it was he could focus more closely on the relaxed smile on Harry's face and the grey eyes that looked up at him, assessing his mood.

He nodded curtly at the Malfoy heir, who inclined his head in thanks and dozed off once again, and walked into the small kitchenette, deciding that he would make breakfast since by the time the boys would wake up the breakfast in the Great Hall would most likely be over and he couldn't allow Harry to not eat anything. Well, make breakfast was perhaps a little far-fetched and so he settled on ordering the house-elves to bring a complete breakfast for three people and one especially healthy but still good tasting one for Harry and on conjuring up a table and four chairs and on setting the table.

Just as he was putting the finishing touch to his masterpiece of a breakfast table he heard some groans from the sitting room, followed by a loud yelp, and as he entered the other room Harry was sitting in one corner of the sofa while Blaise and Draco were talking softly to him and he could literally see the tension leave the small body.

"You okay, Harry?", Draco asked kindly and Harry nodded, disentangling himself from the blanket he had pulled with him as he had scrambled away from the two male bodies enclosing him, "Well, then good morning."

"Good morning", Harry smiled back happily, "Did you sleep well?"

"Better than ever", Blaise grinned conspirationally, "I have to say it's a blessing not having to listen to Vince's snoring for a change. How about breakfast?"

"Breakfast ended ten minutes ago", Voldemort supplied and Harry swivelled around surprisedly because he hadn't noticed his husband until then.

This however caused the dizziness and nausea (Harry refused to call it morning sickness also because he would have considered himself lucky if it only surfaced in the mornings) to make another appearance and he had to ran to the bathroom in order to throw up.

When he emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later after a quick shower and in fresh clothes the three Slytherins were sitting around the breakfast table, though they hadn't started yet, and Voldemort handed him another one of Severus' Anti-Nausea-Potions he had one of the house-elves fetch from the Potion's Master earlier. Thanks to the potion Harry was able to finish more than a quarter of his breakfast (it was a really big breakfast due to the enthusiasm of the house-elves to feed wizards).

"No, Draco, really, I can't eat anything more", Harry protested and pushed the bowl of fruit salad away from his face, "I don't want to be sick again."

Draco sighed, but gave in and started to eat the fruit salad, making noises that clearly indicated how delicious it tasted. Harry only rolled his eyes at him and sipped his coffee, grateful that he was still allowed to have caffeine at least during the first four month of the pregnancy while he tried to ignore Tom's hand on his thigh near his knee because he wasn't sure how he should react. Should he be angry and scream at Voldemort for invading his private space? Should he accept it as a sign of affection and even try to enjoy it because if he was completely honest to himself it kind of felt good? Or should he simply remove the hand? Merlin, this was so confusing!

"Harry, Harry", someone's hand waved in front of his eyes all but touching his nose and he jerked back shockedly, almost falling off his chair: "Don't do this, damnit! Do you want me to fall of the chair?", Harry hissed testily and glared at the owner of the hand, Tom.

Tom held up his hands defensively: "It's not my fault you spaced off and didn't react when I called your name."

"And why were you calling my name?", Harry asked irritatedly, "And it is your fault!"

Tom sighed- this sounded suspiciously like he imagined mood swings- not that he imagined such a thing very often: "I wanted to remind you that we have an appointment with Madam Pomfrey at eleven o'clock", Harry continued glaring at him, clearly displeased that his staring-into-space had been interrupted for something he already knew, "And since it is a Hogsmead weekend Lucius arranged for us to meet your godfather and Lupin in the Hog's Head... only if you want to, of course", Harry's mood changed faster than lightning and he found himself with a happily smiling Harry in his arms even before he had finished his sentence: "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you."

"I take that as a yes then", Tom chuckled, glad that Harry wasn't angry anymore, "Should we head to the infirmary now?"

Harry nodded eagerly, not eager of course for the examination but to meet with Sirius and Remus, and jumped up, dragging Tom with him as he skipped to the door.

"Ehm, Harry", Tom asked cautiously, "Shouldn't you at least say good-bye to your friends?"

"Oh, I'm sorry", Harry ran back to the two Slytherin boys, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ignore you, I'm just so happy to see them again", he ducked his head ashamedly, but his friends just chuckled and drew him in for a hug.

"It's fine, Harry", Draco smiled down at him, "We understand. Don't let us keep you... If you want to meet us later we'll be in the Three Broomsticks around three o'clock."

"You should go to that little shop near the Shrieking Shack that has been empty up until two weeks ago", Harry urged them, "Fred and George opened another shop in there and they have a surprise for you, Draco."

"What kind of surprise?", the blond asked warily, but Harry only kissed his cheek and smirked at him: "A good surprise, you'll like it", and then he walked out of their rooms for good with a pleased Dark Lord in tow.

"Sit on the bed, Harry", Madam Pomfrey called through her office door, "I'll be there in a minute", there was a rather loud thud and it sounded like one of her shelves had toppled over, "Maybe two minutes", she called again and Harry chuckled lightly while he hopped on the bed.

"You know that you don't have to stay with me, don't you?", Harry asked, tucking his feet under his body, "I don't need you to hold my hand or anything."

"I know", Tom sighed and sat down in one of the chairs, "But the fact remains that I want to be here and that I want to stay and even, if you allow it, hold your hand. Or do you want me to go so badly?"

"No", Harry protested at once, "That's not what I meant. I'm sorry."

"I know", Tom genuinely smiled at him, "I just like to tease you."

"What have I told you about teasing Mr. Potter, Professor Riddle?", the nurse had appeared from her office and glared at Voldemort with her patented glare reserved for unwilling patients and anyone who dared to go against her orders.

"From the look your giving me I would assume not to", Tom returned, "I'll make sure to remember it in the future."

"This is not something to joke about", Madam Pomfrey stressed, glaring at him; Tom nodded dutifully and the nurse continued satisfied: "Well, what are you waiting for, Mr. Potter? Take off your shirt."

"Do I have to?", Harry asked pitifully, trying not to look at Tom.

"Yes, Mr. Potter", Madam Pomfrey said more gently than usual, "If you would? I need to scan your stomach to make sure the baby lays right."

Harry sighed but complied and laid down on the bed only barely restraining himself from wrapping his arms over his chest to hide his nudity. The nurse tutted disapprovingly as she saw the ribs that were all too visible, but refrained from making a comment and started to carefully glide her hands over Harry's abdomen after she had spread a cool salve onto the skin to make it more easier to feel the baby. Harry wasn't sure what she wanted to feel anyway. He was only five weeks along and he certainly wasn't showing yet.

"You can put your shirt back on, Mr. Potter", she informed him gently and Harry did so immediately, looking up expectantly at her, "Don't worry, the baby is fine. I just wanted to check because in some cases the baby has such an unlucky position that the bearer's body sees it as an intrusion and tries to get rid of it. This however is not the case so you needn't worry about that. Though your eating habits are another matter, Mr. Potter, I've told you time and time again to eat more, but now it is really essential that you do. Your body has not only to support, but build up a whole new human and in your current state that is hardly possible, do you understand? Have you eaten anything, yet?"

"I ate breakfast", Harry murmured defiantly, "And I know that I have to eat more it's just not that easy when I'm throwing up everything afterwards."

"That is way Severus made you those potions", the nurse handed Tom a little bag, "You are allowed to take up to three of them a day, though that should be the exception. If they don't work sufficiently, tell me and I will try to find something else."

"Yes, Ma'am", Harry muttered and started to fiddle with the hem of his shirt.

"There's nothing we can do at the moment against you fainting from time to time, though once your body has adjusted completely to the baby it should stop", Madam Pomfrey continued, "That should be in about two weeks, however there's no guarantee for it. On a happier note there's a potion against the cramps and against the headaches, however they're under no circumstances to be mixed with any other potion and you shouldn't take them more than once a week. But that doesn't mean that you should not take them just because you think there'll be a time when you'll need them more, understood? The potion will take about five minutes to gradually take effect so don't panic when it doesn't work immediately. If you are in pain and can't drink a potion you can either take a bath, try to sleep or do a bit of **light** sport, whatever you think would help the most. If it really is too much you will come here and Severus and I will supervise you when you take another potion, okay?", Harry nodded obediently again and the witch continued, "Would you like to know the gender of the baby?"

"You can tell that already?", Harry asked surprisedly.

"Yes, it's a rather simple spell that won't endanger the child at all", she assured him, "But some parents prefer it to be a surprise."

"I don't think I want to know", Harry murmured, chancing a look at Tom, "Unless you want to know?"

"I can wait, Harry", the red-eyed man smiled tenderly at him, "It's your decision."

"Then I don't want to know."

"I'll have to check your magic levels...", the nurse spoke up again and Harry obediently laid back down.

She once more got out her wand and waved it over Harry's body in a complicated pattern while whispering under her breath and critically scanned the paper in her other hand. Tom over her shoulder could see that that a lot of numbers had appeared on it, though he had no idea what the different colours represented.

But judging by the scowl on the witch's face the results weren't as good as expected, whatever she had expected: "When was the last time you did magic?", she scowled at the small boy on the hospital bed.

Harry scrunched up his face in thought (which made him look absolutely adorable, at least in Tom's opinion): "Ehm... yesterday afternoon, I think, I transfigured some pebbles into balls and fixed the aim."

"That just isn't enough, Mr. Potter", Madam Pomfrey scolded him sternly, "Did you not listen to me when I told you to use your magic more often so that there wouldn't be an overload? As it is now, your magic levels are fifty percent higher than is normal for a** fully grown wizard** and about twice as high as would be acceptable for your baby."

"I don't understand", Harry said quite confused, "How can my magic levels be higher than those of fully grown wizards when I **did** use my magic?"

"You indeed used a bit of your magic which is the reason your magic is only one and a half as high as would be normal if you were fully grown", the nurse sighed, "But your magic levels are far higher than average and definitely too high for a pregnant wizard so it is essential that you make use of your magic, is that clear?"

Harry nodded his head and sighed.

"But doesn't the child need Harry's magic?", Tom spoke up, furrowing his brow in thought, "Considering that my magic levels are far higher than average and Harry's as well, wouldn't it be likely that the child's magic levels would be higher, too? And wouldn't that mean that the child needs more of Harry's magic?"

"Not really", Madam Pomfrey replied, "There's no guarantee that the child's magical potential will be higher than usual. Magic doesn't work like that. Whether or not the child's magic will be average, below or higher than average depends on other factors as well and not only on the parentage, for instance on the date of birth, the star constellations if you believe in something like that", she scowled darkly, clearly stating that she on her part thought something like that was nonsense, "And of course the education. Your magic levels will influence the baby's, but not to more than fifty percent. The reason why I ordered Harry to bring down his magic is the fact that the higher his magic is when he loses his temper, the more violent the explosion will be. This however could hurt Harry and the baby since the replenishing of his magic is very demanding of his strength and after such a huge outburst he would already be tired."

"So as long as Harry doesn't lose his temper it doesn't matter how much of his magic he already used?", Tom asked.

"Yes", the nurse answered tersely, "But as I see it you do a fairly poor job in preventing that and so I think it would be easier and safer if Harry just used more of his magic."

"I was just asking", Tom returned testily, "No need to snap at me... Are we finished then?"

"No", Madam Pomfrey replied in the same way, "Here are three vials of Nourishment Potions. Harry is to take one each week. It would be best if you took one now", she handed Harry one of the tiny bottles filled with neon green liquid and shoved the other two in Tom's hands, who, rolling his eyes, put them in the bag with the other potions while Harry obediently swallowed his, grimacing in distaste,

"Okay, if you don't have anymore questions I will see you again next Saturday- unless something unforeseen happens- for the next check-up. And if you want to, Mr. Potter, you can help me whenever you have time."

"I'd like that", Harry smiled at her and, grabbing Tom's hand from where it rested on his thigh, jumped from the bed, "Thanks, Madam Pomfrey. Come on, Tom, stop sulking."

/I'm not sulking/, the Dark Lord hissed annoyedly/Why is it that I'm always the bad guy? That stupid nurse started it./

/Madam Pomfrey isn't stupid/, Harry hissed back/And I don't think you're the bad guy, Tom./

/But you think this whole mess is my fault and that Pomfrey's anger towards me is totally justified/, Tom accused Harry.

/Well, technically it is your fault/, Harry said lowly/I'm sorry. You don't have to come with me if Madam Pomfrey annoys you that much./

/We already had this discussion/, Tom retorted/And I know that without me it wouldn't have happened, but that gives her no right to snap at me. I only tolerated it because of you and I think I deserve a bit more appreciation for that./

Harry ducked his head ashamedly and nodded/I'm sorry. I won't tease you again./

/Harry, are you crying?/, Tom asked shockedly after they had walked in silence for a while and caught Harry's shaking head between his large hands, making him look up/Salazar, why are you crying, precious?/

/I'm sorry/, Harry sobbed piteously/I'm sorry./

/Shh, beautiful/, he carefully pulled him close and enveloped him in his arms/Tell me what's wrong so that I can make it better. Did I say something that upset you?/

/Please, don't be angry with me/, the small boy sniffed barely audible/I didn't mean to disrespect you./

/It's okay, I'm not angry/, Tom comforted him, rubbing circles on his back/Look at me, do I look angry?/, since Harry wouldn't look up this question turned out to be rhetorical/Is this about what I said about showing appreciation? I didn't mean it like that, Harry. I was just annoyed by Pomfrey, not by you. It is not your fault, sweetie, please don't cry anymore./

/I shouldn't have said that you were sulking/, Harry choked out, but Tom cautiously eased his unruly head from his chest and began to kiss away the tears/I **was** sulking, Harry, and you are allowed to tease me. I shouldn't have reacted like I did, please forgive me./

Harry sniffed several more times before he warily looked up at his taller husband/I'm sorry, I got your robes wet./

/It's fine as long as you forgive me/, Tom murmured gently/I'm not really used yet to be considerate of other's feelings./

"No kidding", Harry chuckled and the red-eyed wizard ruffled his hair affectionately, "Madam Pomfrey is just protective of me, you know? She meant no offence."

"So am I, Harry", the older wizard softly brushed his lips over Harry's cheek, "Never forget that. I might not react in the best of ways most of the time, but I'm only trying to help you.", Harry shyly smiled up at him and once again took Tom's hand and began to drag him through the hallways: "Well, then hurry up. I want to see Sirius again."

"As much as I care about you, Harry", Tom refused to speed up if only just a little, "But it will be a cold day in hell before you will see me running through the castle like one of those annoying little first years you have to be careful not to step on."

"Are you calling me a first year?", Harry asked indignantly.

"No, I'm calling you little, which you are so there's no use denying it", Harry pouted cutely, "And you're the most adorable little wizard I ever met", he harshly tugged on Harry's arm so that he lost his balance and safely landed in Tom's arms in the perfect position to be kissed senseless, "You shouldn't pout if you're not prepared to take the consequences", he murmured before he gave Harry his long overdue kiss or rather kisses till Harry was sufficiently flushed and gasping for breath.

It was a while before both of them had regained their breathes, rearranged Harry's clothes since Tom's hands had miraculously wandered under Harry's shirt and found the bag with Harry's potion's, which had landed in a far-off corner (thank Merlin, for Un-breaking-Charms!). But then they continued on their way, Harry's left hand safely wrapped in Tom's right.

It was a sign of how preoccupied the Dark Lord was with his small husband that he didn't notice what said husband was doing until five minutes had passed with concentrating on how good it felt to have Harry's small hand in his own and timing his sideward glances so that they wouldn't be noticed. And considering that Harry was changing the colour of the walls, levitated suits of armours, rearranged the pictures on the walls and conjured windows, doors and walls where ever it pleased him, this was a rather huge blunder.

"You know that the offer still stands to train you", he said after he had assessed that Harry was trying to bring down his magic levels, "I would be careful not to hurt you and you could get rid of some of your magic. The spells you're doing right now aren't very demanding."

"I didn't know it was an offer", Harry replied while making one of the statues dance a slow waltz on its own.

"Of course it was an offer", Tom returned defensively, "It's your decision if you want to or not, but I think it could be helpful."

"So, if say, I don't want to learn Leglimency", Harry asked cautiously, "Would I have to?"

"No, Harry", the older wizard squeezed Harry's hand reassuringly, "You wouldn't have to."

"I don't want to learn Leglimency", Harry muttered under his breath.

"Do you want to tell me why not?", Tom's voice was gentle and just a tad bit curious.

The boy-who-lived shrugged helplessly: "I wouldn't feel right to invade an other's privacy. I'm not Dumbledore."

"And I thank Salazar for it everyday", Tom chuckled, "I'll talk with Severus, okay? Maybe you would like to continue to learn about Healing Potions with him?"

"That would be great", Harry's face split into a huge smile, "Thank you, Tom. And I would like you to teach me."

"Not a problem, kitten", he smiled back tenderly, "Should I help you with your redecorating?"

Harry laughed happily and together they continued to throw spells left and right.

This way it took them slightly longer to reach the entrance hall (but not nearly as long as the people who had tried following them: one of the newly self-appointed spies, Michael Corner and his newest girl-friend Ingrid Perkins from Hufflepuff, one with jealously and anger boiling Ginny Weasley, who got stuck between two walls with the waltzing statue, and the two other parts of the once Golden Trio, who actually made it out of the castle, but with enough delay that their prey had disappeared from sight), where they met with Rudolphus and Rabastan, who had been a little worried because Harry and their Lord had missed breakfast.

Their worry was rewarded when Harry almost jumped into their arms and hugged them happily, kissing their cheeks.

"What made you so happy?", Rabastan asked good-naturedly, "And would you like to train with us?"

"I'm going to see Sirius", Harry smiled happily, "So I don't have time for a training, sorry."

"That's okay", Rudolphus replied, "But would you mind if I came with you to make that contract with your godfather?"

"Not at all", Harry once again hugged him for emphasis, "You ready?"

The older brother nodded and they made their way down to Hogsmead, avoiding the other students as good as possible and inconspicuously walked into the poorly-lit bar-parlour of the Hog's Head.

Voldemort didn't waste any time to ask the bartender for instructions where they would find Harry's godfather and Lupin, but gently yet determinedly pushed the small Gryffindor to the tumble-down and dust-covered staircase that led to the five guestrooms, though Remus' and Sirius' was the only one occupied at the moment. The number four hung lopsidedly on the seemingly rotting wooden door, which showed a few holes in all the wrong places, which where makeshiftly crammed with old newspapers and spell-o-tape. Harry tentatively knocked on the door, which was immediately jerked open by an over-enthusiastic Sirius who enveloped Harry in a bear hug so that he had no chance to get a glimpse at the room, which laid beyond that pretty unwelcoming door.

"Never do this again, do you hear me, Harry?", Sirius pressed the petite boy closer to his chest, "I was worried sick about you. Do you know what it does to a man when Lucius Malfoy of all people is suddenly standing in your office, telling you that your only godson has to speak to you about something. And when you ask what's the matter he only says that he can't tell you and that it's not too bad, at least he doesn't think so. Can you imagine? Are you alright? Are you hurt? What did you want to tell me?"

"I'm sure Harry would be willing to answer your questions if he was only able to breath", Voldemort pointed out, "And maybe it would be better to discuss this inside your room, Black."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry", Sirius immediately released Harry from his tight hold, "Come on in. Remus got some chocolate from Honeydukes and I fetched some butterbeer from the Three Broomsticks."

"I had to fetch it because you were to occupied flirting with Rosmerta", Remus growled from where he sat on the moth-eaten bed, but as soon as he saw Harry he smiled brightly up at his adopted godson and hugged him tightly, though much more carefully than Sirius had done earlier, "You look great, Harry, why don't you take a seat and then tell us what you have to tell us?"

Harry nodded nervously while Remus ushered the other two wizards into the dingy-looking room and pointed to the only two chairs, which stood at the only sooted table near the only dirty window while Sirius and he himself took a seat left and right of their best-friend's son.

"Will you tell us what is wrong, Harry?", Sirius asked gently and Harry nodded, taking a deep breath: "I... I don't know how to tell you."

"Just right out will be fine", Remus urged him suavely, "Would you want me to leave you two alone for a minute?"

Harry shook his head: "I want you to know, too, but...", he suddenly pulled Sirius down so that he could whisper in his ear and clutched to Sirius dark red turtleneck, "I'm pregnant. Don't be angry, please."

Admittedly, Sirius' face at the moment Harry's message got through to him didn't look like he would get a Nobel prize or the Wizarding equivalent anytime soon, but really, no-one could expect that of him and he automatically began to pat Harry's back and pulled him completely in his lap, murmuring something unintelligible in Harry's ear.

"Don't hate me, please", Harry pleaded and Sirius' hold tightened around his godson: "I'm not angry, Harry, and I certainly don't hate you. Shh, it'll be fine, everything will turn out fine, trust me", his stormy grey-eyes caught Voldemort's ruby ones and he made a distinct motion with his right hand (you know this one where you only use one finger and which is mostly not very friendly), "My plan was anyway to become the best-looking grandpa ever. I didn't imagine it would turn out quite like this, but hey, I **do** look fabulous!"

Harry snorted and gave him a watery smile: "So you're not disappointed or anything?"

"No, kiddo", the older man softly kissed Harry's forehead, "I'm one hundred and ten percent on your side and if you want me to castrate a certain someone that would make my day."

"Sorry, Siri", Harry chuckled wryly, "That job is already taken."

"Oh, well, you can't have everything I guess", Sirius sighed melodramatically and ruffled Harry's hair, "What do you say should I tell Remi? Must be a first that I know something he doesn't... Maybe we should keep it that way for a while..."

"Sorry to disappoint you, darling dearest", Remus stated dryly, "But your over-enthusiastic declaration that you will be the best-looking grandfather there ever was gave you away."

"Bugger!", Sirius exclaimed unhappily, "Would it have killed you to pretend you didn't know?"

"Yes, most likely", Remus answered tersely and Sirius huffed offendedly: "My, aren't we in a bad mood today?"

"Are you angry?", Harry asked shakily, "I'm sorry..."

"Harry, no, I'm not angry", Remus wrapped his arms around both smaller wizards, "It's not your fault, don't believe that. It's not a fault at all. Like Sirius said everything will be fine and I'm sure you'll be the best parent ever. How far are you along, cub?"

"Nearly five weeks", Harry replied, smiling lovingly down at his stomach, "That's amazing, isn't it? I can't believe there's a little human growing inside of me."

"Yes, it's really amazing", Sirius smiled the same smile and stroked Harry's flat stomach, "Are you okay with this, Harry?"

"Yes, I will be", Harry gave back, sighing softly, "As long as you don't hate me..."

"Then everything will be fine, pup", the grey-eyed wizard assured him, "How about some cake now? Voldemort and I will get you some."

"Subtle, really, Siri", Harry chuckled and shifted his weight so that he was snuggled against Remus instead, "Well, then I'm waiting for my cake. Off you go."

"You can already set the table", Sirius suggested and got up, throwing his cloak over his shoulders, "We won't be long."

Voldemort stood up as well, the chair giving an ominous creak, and followed Sirius out of the door not before kissing Harry's forehead.

"Look, Black, what is it you want?", Voldemort asked exasperatedly, "I already apologised for getting him pregnant and he was angry with me during the last week so I really don't see what you want."

"So you think everything is okay now that the high and mighty Lord Voldemort sank low enough to apologise, do you?", Sirius sneered and jabbed his finger into Tom's chest.

"I didn't know he would get pregnant", Voldemort defended, though he really didn't know why he allowed Harry's godfather to berate him, "I didn't understand Harry when he told me."

"That is exactly the point, Voldemort", scoffed the slender ex-Gryffindor, "It was not Harry's responsibility to inform you that he could get pregnant, you are responsible, Voldemort. You are a fully grown wizard you should have put into consideration that Harry might be a bearer and that there was a slight possibility he could become pregnant. And what did you do to him that he was so afraid of our reaction?"

"I might have told him to get an abortion", Voldemort more or less mumbled, "But I was in shock and I wanted to make him happy again!"

Surprisingly enough, Sirius didn't flip, but patted Voldemort on the shoulder: "You can't tell Harry something like that, whatever your intentions are, Voldemort. It might sound reasonable to you and everyone else, but it certainly doesn't sound reasonable to kill someone so that he can feel better again. What did Madam Pomfrey say? She's Harry's medi-witch, isn't she?"

Voldemort looked at him weirdly as if to ask if he was pregnant, too, and was suffering from mood swings: "She said that Harry should take care of himself to make it short."

"That's not all, is it?", Sirius stared at him, "I'm from an old pureblood family, Voldemort, I probably know more about this than you so don't lie to me. I have every right to know what is happening to Harry and I swear if you even consider lying to me I will behead you and put your head next to the heads of my family's old house-elves, letting the portrait of my mother scream at you for being a Halfblood. And that is nothing compared to the things I will do to you if you hurt Harry or his child."

"She said that the chances are high that Harry will die", Tom answered after a long silence, "There's nothing anyone can do about it."

Sirius' shoulders slumped a little, but he nodded in understanding: "We should go and get that cake."

"I'm surprised you didn't blow up", Tom mused while they stepped out of the shabby pub, "You took the news rather well."

"Harry won't die", the Animagus shrugged his shoulders, "He's far too stubborn."

"I doubt that his stubbornness will help him very much", Voldemort gave back depressedly, "And why would he want to live anyway", he added under his breath, but Sirius heard him nonetheless: "Because people care about him, Voldemort, and while I won't deny that Remus clearly is the clever one out of the two of us I'm not stupid, either, and if I'm not sorely mistaken you care about him, too, am I not right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Suit yourself", Sirius replied, "But you shouldn't hesitate too long before telling Harry what you really feel about him or you might just lose him. Harry deserves to know that someone loves him, don't you agree?", they had entered Honeydukes and Sirius was ordering five pieces of cake while Voldemort was pondering silently.

"Am I really that obvious?", he finally asked as they had already reached the Hog's Head.

"I was only guessing", Sirius laughed and thumped on his back heartily, "Harry has that talent to win everyone over, but it's definitely good to know that you're not as heartless as you'd like everyone to think", Voldemort growled dangerously, but Sirius only laughed louder, "And I really think you should tell him, Voldemort, because while Harry is definitely very loveable I'm not sure the same goes for you and you'll never find someone as good as Harry again."

"I know", the Dark Lord agreed before he pushed the guestroom door open, "We're back and I haven't killed your godfather, though he was no help at all."

"I appreciate it, thank you", Harry chuckled and accepted the chaste kiss Tom bestowed upon him, "Take a seat, please."

While the two wizards had been gone the three others had rearranged the table and the two chairs so that now Rudolphus and the Dark Lord could sit down opposite of Remus, Sirius and Harry, who sat on the bed, the table between them. Remus and Harry had already filled a cup of coffee for everyone, while Rudolphus had procured plates for everyone.

It came to no-one's surprise that Harry ate barely half of his piece of cake before he declared that Sirius could have the rest and curled up in the older Animagus' lap, falling asleep almost immediately. Sirius chuckled softly and began to gently comb Harry's hair with his fingers, too focussed on his godson that he forgot about his own cake.

He couldn't believe how beautiful Harry was. How absolutely sweet and delicate. Of course he was worried about him, about what this pregnancy would do to him, but it was not his decision, it was not he who would decide whether or not Harry would pull through. As loath as he was to admit it he didn't really matter at least not as long as Voldemort hadn't made his decision and then he would either have to pick up the pieces or see Harry truly happy. Sirius, despite all the foolishness in his youth, knew like all good fathers that their children needed someone else to be completely happy.

This certain someone who can light up your day by just smiling at you once, this certain someone who instinctually knows when you're sad and knows what to do to make it alright again, this certain someone who can fix you just as easily as he can break you. If he had been able to chose he certainly wouldn't have elected Voldemort as Harry's certain someone, but that was beside the point.

He had noticed how the supposedly evil Dark Lord got all worried about his supposed enemy, how he would kiss Harry with an air of shyness, how he was afraid Harry wouldn't approve of what he did or said and unless Voldemort was a very, very, very good actor he could be sure that he had fallen in love with Harry. And since Harry would never hurt someone willingly or cheat on his appointed husband Voldemort was the only chance Harry had for being truly happy.

"Black, there's something we need to talk about", Rudolphus' voice interrupted his musings and he looked up expectantly, "I'm not sure if Harry told you, but I plan to divorce Bellatrix."

"He mentioned something like that, yes", Sirius nodded, "Though I don't really see how it concerns me. Do you want my permission or something?"

"No, but you might remember that there's a contract between our two families promising me a spouse", Rudolphus said with deliberation, "This would mean that after my divorce you and I had to marry..."

"No", Remus growled dangerously and pulled Sirius and with him Harry towards him rather rudely, "Sirius is mine, keep away from him!"

"That might be as it is, but since Sirius is the only Black still available...", Rudolphus returned, letting the sentence trail off.

"He is **not** available", the werewolf snarled furiously and shoved a little jewel-box in Sirius hands, "Sirius will marry me!"

"Not so fast, Moony", Sirius pressed the box back into his hands, "Firstly, I fully expect you to ask me and secondly, you can't ask me while Harry is sleeping. Wait a minute."

He carefully leant down and kissed Harry's forehead, murmuring for him to wake up.

"What's the matter?", Harry yawned and stretched a little before curling up once more.

"Remus is going to ask a very important question", Sirius smiled down at him before he gently forced him to sit up, with his back against Sirius chest and his head resting against the older man's shoulder, "You wouldn't want to miss that, would you? Okay, Remus, what was it you wanted to ask?"

Remus growled mildly annoyed before he got down on one knee and presented the now open jewel-box to the Animagus, revealing a rather simple gold ring with fine Celtic symbols on it: "Sirius Black, would you do me the honour of marrying me?"

"Of course, Remi", Sirius said solemnly, "It would be my honour. Is this okay for you, Harry? To have Remus as a second godfather?"

Harry smiled brilliantly at the werewolf, who slowly took the ring out of its small confinement and slipped it on Sirius' ring finger before he once again sat down behind his mate and his cub and embraced them from behind.

"Sirius is already spoken for", he informed Rudolphus evenly, "So you will have to look for another spouse."

"That's why I was going to suggest that Black and I make a second contract, stating that his family has wronged me and that therefor my marriage contract is no longer effective and that no-one can expect me to marry into that family again", Rudolphus handed Sirius several papers, "You can go through them and send them to me once you're ready, though I would appreciate it if you could hurry a little before Bellatrix turns up again and plunders my vaults."

"No rubs attached?", Sirius asked suspiciously while he studied the first page, "No loop holes, no small print?"

"Nothing of that sort", the brown-haired man denied, "But as I said you can send it to me once you've read it."

"I'll do that", Sirius nodded and leant back against his fiancé, pulling Harry with him, who happily snuggled into the warmth the two bodies provided.

Rudolphus nodded and after he had said his good-byes left the room and the Hog's Head altogether while Voldemort still sat on his spindly-legged chair, watching the three Gryffindors with contemplative eyes: "Harry", he softly called after a while, "Are you so tired? Would you like to stay with your godfathers for a while?"

"Really, didn't you have some sort of program for today?", Harry asked hopefully.

"I had but if you'd rather stay with those two I'll go and check on the castle", Voldemort elaborated, already predicting Harry's response, which he didn't need to wait for long: "If you don't mind, I would like to stay here..."

"Alright", Voldemort stood up and, refraining from giving Harry one last kiss (it would have been complicated let alone awkward to kiss the fragile boy while he was still sitting in Black's lap), walked over to the door, "How about we have dinner together in the Three Broomsticks at, let's say, six?"

"We'll be there", Remus answered for Harry, who was already half asleep, "Thank you, Voldemort."

The tall red-eyed man nodded curtly and pulled the door closed after him, rebuilding the Silencing and Privacy Ward from earlier so that no-one would be able to eavesdrop. He had the distinct feeling that someone had been following him and Black earlier, but had been too preoccupied to give it more than a fleeting thought and now as he draw up the hood of his robe and slunk into the shadows, watching the busy street for any signs that someone was following him he couldn't find anything.

Maybe he was beginning to become paranoid, he mused, it would certainly be more dark lordish than anything else he had done in the last few weeks...

* * *

**I know I'm spoilt rotten, but I want reviews! A lot of reviews! Tons of reviews! And really, whose fault is that? Now you have to bear the consequences...**


	38. Dinner

**Disclaimer: All the wonderful characters belong to J.K.Rowling, I'm just borrowing them.**

**Author's Note: Hello everyone, I hope the alerts are working again and that therefore I'll get more reviews #hinthint# Also I noticed that I might have answered some of your reviews wrong since I mixed the chapters up and thought I had already posted this one. Sorry about that, I hope it didn't confuse you too much. I also got a flame and though I normally find them very amusing, I actually thought about deleting this one, but since I'm allowed to write whatever I please, I think I should let you do the same #shrug#. But the rule still stands: If you just hate this fic or if you feel somehow offended by it you shouldn't read it. It's really not my fault if you don't find the return button.

* * *

**

**38. DINNER**

The Dark Lord scowled sitting at his lonely desk in the back of the Three Broomsticks, looking disdainfully at the drying flowers, which someone had put on the table, and the wax that slowly dripped on the wooden plate. His husband was already ten minutes late, he checked his watch to find that Harry was indeed already eleven minutes late and his scowl darkened.

On top of that it also seemed that every single Hogwarts student had chosen this time to also get a last butterbeer before it was time for them to go back to the castle and while he obviously couldn't order yet that didn't mean that he enjoyed being ignored. And that was what Madam Rosmerta was studiously doing: ignoring him, the Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort! No-one was supposed to ignore him, least of all in favour of some stupid third years. It held absolutely no importance that Madam Rosmerta was slowly working her way from the left side to the right side and that he sat in one of the lounges at the right side- he was not to be ignored!

And then there was this insignificant, little fact he had learned when he had paid a visit to his castle, which surprisingly enough still existed (you never know what a horde of Death Eaters could do without having someone in charge). Bellatrix had shown up again. At least this was what Macnair claimed and as he had a slashed chest to prove it he was inclined to believe it.

Now, you're probably wondering why the Dark Lord wasn't jumping in joy that one of his most loyal servants had returned. Well, the answer is easy: because Dark Lords don't jump with joy!

And Voldemort actually had another reason not to be celebrating Bellatrix' return: Harry (it was always Harry these days). Bellatrix was unpredictable and, even he knew it, insane and she was totally obsessed with him. While that had been amusing in the beginning, it was certainly unhealthy to be obsessed with something that would never be yours and he was seriously worried how far Bellatrix would go to get him and respectively get rid of Harry.

"Tom", the melodious voice of his husband kept him from committing murder, "I'm sorry you had to wait, but Sirius was fussing because he couldn't find his brush and we had to turn over the whole room before he finally admitted that he might have left it at home..."

"I didn't fuss", Sirius, who had arrived with the werewolf, defended himself, "And if I did, I did it with very good reason. This isn't just a simple brush! It is the secret to my absolutely stunning hair. And I never leave the house without this brush!"

Harry rolled his eyes at him and slipped onto the bench next to Tom, who wrapped on arm around his waist at once. Sirius and Remus sat down next to him, the latter still trying to convince the first that the brush definitely hadn't been in their room and that he could get a new brush.

"So you spent the whole afternoon looking for a brush?", Voldemort raised one of his black, clearly-defined eyebrows at the three Gryffindors, "I guess it never occurred to you that it might have been helpful to use a Summoning Charm, did it?"

Harry boxed his arm indignantly: "Do you know how many brushes flew towards us? Sirius had three on top of the one he was missing, Remus had one, too, and then there were those four brushes we don't know who they belong to. So you better keep your sarcasm to yourself."

"I was just trying to find out if there was a reason you kept me waiting here for so long", Voldemort stated evenly.

"The world doesn't revolve around you", Harry replied angrily and, squirming out of Tom's embrace, stormed to the bathroom.

"Care to enlighten me what has got into Harry?", Voldemort asked the two Gryffindors, who seemed to find this highly amusing.

"That, my dear Voldemort, is called a mood swing", Sirius explained in a fatherly voice, "There are two things you have to remember about mood swings. First: They're generally not your fault, but if you don't apologise, you'll be considered an insensitive prat and will pay for it anyway. Second: Never ever tell a pregnant witch or in this case wizard that he's having mood swings or you'll be considered an insensitive prat and will pay for it."

"How do you know?", Voldemort asked too perplexed to get angry over the patronising tone.

"Lily, obviously", Remus said in a clipped tone, "James was more than a little concerned about her during her pregnancy and didn't want her all alone while he was working so we had to fill in."

He wasn't going to apologise for something Dark Lords usually do: kill people. There was nothing wrong with killing two annoying opponents, not at all, especially if you thought your own life was in danger. Every Dark Lord would have acted that way... So obviously he didn't say anything, biting back the scathing comment that had been on the tip of his tongue, and since Remus and Sirius had dived head-first into a brooding silence they were all rather relieved when Harry returned from the bathroom and once again snuggled into the Dark Lord the previous argument forgotten in favour of the all consuming pain and dizziness he was experiencing right now.

"Harry, are you okay?", he leaned over his trembling little lion concernedly and felt his forehead, "Salazar, how can you get a fever in less than two minutes?"

"I'm sorry", Harry whispered hoarsely and slumped even more, clutching to Tom's robe to keep upright, "It hurts."

"Shh, try to take deep breathes", Tom pressed Harry's head to his chest with his right hand while he shuffled through his pockets with the other hand, searching for Harry's medicine, "Here, can you swallow?", Harry made a valiant attempt to grasp the tiny bottle with his shaking hands, but as it became obvious that he was trembling too violently, Tom gently coaxed him to open his mouth and let the viscous liquid drip into his mouth, making encouraging noises as Harry swallowed painfully.

Harry's eyes where glistening with unshed tears, but there was no other indication that he was in pain. If one didn't know Harry, all they would see was that he was shivering and think he was cold. Tom wondered, how often he had missed the signs of pain before he learned to see through Harry's acting. He even seemed to smile lightly and his posture was straight once again and though he didn't look at them, he seemed to be fully aware of what was going on around him.

Tom gently began to massage Harry's abdomen with long, firm strokes and Harry relaxed slightly/It's okay, little one. You don't have to hide your pain. Only a few more minutes./

Harry turned to his side and slip one arm of his own around Tom's midsection, snuggling closer as the pain subsided, and purred appreciatively to the hand that now caressed his face.

"Good evening, what can I bring you, gentlemen?", he had almost lost himself in the sensation of the frail wizard in his arm as Madam Rosmerta finally reached their table, her notepad perched expectantly; Tom was sure she had winked at Sirius.

"I'd like a butterbeer and a Toast Hawaii, if it isn't too much of a problem", Sirius smiled up at her, she smiled back and Remus growled warningly, whereupon Sirius turned to smile at the werewolf and patted his knee consolingly.

"Pumpkin juice and scrambled eggs without pepper", Remus grumbled and Madam Rosmerta noted it down as well before she turned to Voldemort and Harry: "What can I bring you two?"

"Can I have a fruit tea, please?", Harry asked quietly, snuggling once again up to the Dark Lord as the witch nodded.

"Don't you want to eat anything, Harry?", he demanded concernedly, but Harry only shook his head slightly and he didn't bother to argue, "Well, then, a glass of firewhiskey and some cheese sandwiches, if you will."

Madam Rosmerta scribbled some more on her pad before she disappeared through the mass of tables and students to give their order to the kitchen and the bartender and once again silence reigned over their table.

"Must you drink that stuff?", Harry suddenly asked, looking up with half accusing, half pleading eyes.

"What stuff?", Tom asked honestly confused, since he wasn't drinking anything at all.

"Firewhiskey. Do you have to drink this stuff?", Harry repeated, still staring in his eyes.

/If you kiss me I might be persuaded not to consume 'this stuff' and let a perfectly good firewhiskey go to waste/, he offered with a predatory gleam in his eyes that didn't escape Harry's studying gaze/And this time I want a real kiss./

"Do you find it as annoying as I when he does that?", Sirius murmured to Remus, who nodded in reply and the both watched fascinated and a bit shocked as Harry slowly crawled completely into Voldemort's lap till he was sitting astride his legs and with the gained height easily lifted himself up just a little and timidly brushed his lips over the older man's (though at this point it is necessary to add that neither Sirius nor Remus had a very good view on what was going on, which frustrated the Animagus to no end and only Remus' firm grip kept him in his seat).

Harry wasn't sure what he should be doing, hell, he wasn't sure what he was doing. He had never kissed anyone like this before. Well, there was this one time with Cho, but she had started it and then the time Ron...better not think about it... and of course Tom himself, but it was always Tom who did, well, something. And of course, he kissed a lot of people on the cheek because he wanted them to know that he cared about them and because they enjoyed it and because he hoped they liked him as well and because... he had a lot of reasons. But pecking someone's cheek was completely different than what Tom expected of him and he was at a loss of what to do.

Why couldn't Tom just kiss **him**? That would be so much easier and in all honesty he didn't really mind, but Tom didn't move an inch only stared at him in slight amusement and anticipation. Harry took a deep breath (why, he wasn't sure, but at least he was doing something) and slowly moved his hands to rest on each side of Tom's head, bracing the muscles in his legs so that his head was on a comfortable level with Tom's and hesitantly pressed his lips to the older wizard's. When there was no noticeable reaction he slowly started to move his lips, nibbling Tom's bottom lip and gracing them with his tongue until he finally received an appreciative moan and two strong hands kept him in place while Tom's tongue darted out to explore Harry's mouth.

Still, just as Harry was blissfully submitting to Tom's guidance the tongue drew back after nudging Harry's own invitingly and Harry for lack of another idea followed it back into the other's mouth.

"Potter!", an outraged cry interrupted their little snogging session, "I'm going to kill you, Potter."

"I always like to hear that", Harry turned around, smirking slightly, coming face to face to Draco, who resembled a Weasley more than a Malfoy, "Oh, my, Draco, you look lovely."

"I look like a fucking Weasel", the former blond hissed and leaned over the table so that his now freckled nose was only inches away from Harry's, "I don't appreciate this kind of surprise, Potter."

"You certainly don't look like a weasel, Dracipoo, since weasels are rodents and you look decidedly human", Harry corrected him sweetly, "Besides, was it I who did this to you?"

"You had your wand in this, I'm sure", Draco complained.

He wondered briefly why he had bothered to plot revenge on the Dursleys with those two cretins, who had agreed all to eagerly not really bothering about the reason, but then he imagined the faces of those perverts when they received daily mail from now on and he thought it was well worth it. He has even bothered to warn Dudley so as not to hurt Harry unintentionally and make him regret the decision- if you could call it that- to tell them about the abuse.

"My magnificent hair is red, Potter, and I have freckles. The Weasley Twins are so going to pay for this."

"Nope, knew nothing of this", Harry laughed, "But tell me was there someone else in their shop..."

"Their brother", Draco complied, "Charlie."

"And did you like him?", Harry asked innocently, "He's cool, isn't he?"

"He's rather... alright", Draco murmured, "But we were not talking about him. You said they had a surprise for me. A **nice**surprise. Do I look like a nice surprise to you?"

"You look like you should take a shower", Harry supplied, "And maybe then you'll see what my surprise for you was. Off you go!"

Draco looked ready to argue, but after looking down at his hands and finding freckles there, too, he decided that maybe a shower would do him good and strode out of the pub, leaving Blaise, also in Weasley costume, behind.

"Never knew he could be so oblivious", he murmured disbelievingly and Harry burst out laughing, "He's rather good-looking, though."

"Charlie?", Harry assured himself and the other boy nodded, "They match, don't you think?"

"We spent two hours in that stupid shop", Blaise rolled his eyes, "And Draco was definitely not interested in their products. Why did you chose him?"

"Charlie was always obsessed with dragons, it seemed only logical that he and Draco would hit it off", they shared a conspiratorial grin, "Want to join us for dinner?"

"No, I think not", Blaise got up again, "It's quite disturbing to know you look like a Weasley. I don't know how they cope with it. The shower will wash this off, won't it? ", Harry nodded slightly and Blaise let out a relieved sigh, "See you later, Harry", he fondly ruffled the other boy's hair.

"Yes, see you later, Blaise", Harry returned just as Madam Rosmerta brought their food and drinks.

* * *

**I know I sound like a broken record, but PLEASE review!**


	39. Faulty Decisions

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

**Author's Note: This chapter is a bit GRAPHIC, but I didn't want to cut it óut since, it's not really sex yet and sinceit's kind of essential to the story, please don't take offence. And**** if you would look at the bottom I would like some suggestions...

* * *

**

**39. FAULTY DECISIONS**

"Yes, that's it, Harry", Rabastan praised him, "Just try to put your centre of gravity more to the front", he gently pushed Harry's hip forward.

The small Gryffindor gave an involuntary shiver_, no, Uncle Vernon, no, _he thought he had it under control. Rabastan seemed to hesitate a little, but as the unbidden reaction ceased almost immediately and Harry nodded in agreement, he positioned Harry's hips where he wanted them to be and they continued their training. It was Sunday afternoon, only one hour till dinner would start in the Great Hall and the sole reason why they had decided to train was that they hadn't been able in the last three days.

Maybe that was it, reasoned Harry, he had always avoided having lessons on Sundays because his mind was usually preoccupied with his weekly duty on those nights. That was also the reason he pretended to be unconscious when Rudolphus' foot accidentally connected with his shoulder- _nothing to worry about!_ He didn't see the worried looks the two brothers exchanged, only felt an incredibly strong wave of concern and suspicion.

"I didn't hit him that hard", Rudolphus was carefully examining his shoulder, "And normally no-one passes out from a hit to one's shoulder."

"Maybe it was something else", Rabastan was checking his pulse, "Maybe he hit his head when he fell. He's breathing pretty fast, don't you think? Should we bring him to Madam Pomfrey?"

Something wet was pressed against his forehead and Rudolphus gently propped him up, using his legs to stabilise him. He let his eyelids flutter open as the wet something was moved to his neck- he didn't like it there, _make it go away, please, no, uncle_- and quickly twisted out of the way and away from the two men themselves.

"Sorry, I didn't pay attention", Harry apologised and slowly got to his feet, "I'm fine, though."

They didn't argue since it would be pointless, anyway, and continued their training, though they kept a closer watch on the black-haired boy, noting some oddities in the way Harry reacted to certain situations. But they didn't approach the subject, only let their eyes linger even longer on the small hero.

They left Harry at the door to his quarters to take a shower, Rudolphus once again apologised for the hit on his shoulder and Harry needed a second to remember it. He told him it was alright and went into his rooms, leaving two concerned Lestranges behind.

"Something is not right", Rabastan voiced what they both thought, "Do you think it has anything to do with his... condition?"

"He has been in this condition for over a month", Rudolphus shook his head in thought, "And yesterday he was fine, why should this start so suddenly?"

Rabastan shrugged his shoulders helplessly: "Are you going to send Black's agreement to our lawyer?", he changed the subject, indicating the pile of papers Harry had given to Rudolphus at breakfast.

"Harry said, I could use his owl", Rudolphus agreed, "I'm going to send them off while you take a shower."

At the same time Harry was already under the shower, berating himself. _Get a grip on yourself!_ Why was he suddenly unable to differentiate between what was happening now and memories of his stupid uncle? This couldn't be happening, he had his shields, he was fine, he had it under control. _Hormones!_ Madam Pomfrey had mentioned something like that. He was only oversensitive. It would pass. He just had to calm down. He was getting a headache! If he didn't knew that his shields were up full force, he would have an explanation for those annoying flashbacks and all the feelings he received. Harry stood under the shower for over half an hour, completely motionless, not even realising as the water got steadily colder. His lips were a little blue when he finally step out from under the stream of water and got dressed in casual black slacks and a blue button-up shirt and his normal school robes.

Tom was waiting for him in the living-room. Harry felt that he was slightly worried- he shouldn't be able to feel this! He twisted away as Tom tried to slip an arm around his waist, not bothering to find an excuse and instead took hold of the tanned hand.

"Are you feeling okay, Harry?", Tom asked, noticing the whiteness of Harry's face, "Would you rather we eat in our rooms?"

"No", he said a bit to hastily, hoping Tom hadn't seen the way he winced when the door banged shut behind them and walked faster.

The plethora of feelings that hit him as Tom pushed the double doors open was deafening and he closed his eyes briefly and stumbled perplexedly when Tom's hand tugged him forward.

"Do you mind if I sit with Draco and Blaise?", he couldn't bear Tom's presence any longer, his feelings were decidedly too similar to what his uncle had felt, the thought of his uncle made a shiver run down his spine, maybe Blaise and Draco could help him.

"Sure, if you want to", Tom's voice sounded hesitant even to his own ears, but that was not what was worrying him, Harry was acting strange, could it be that...? No, it had to be something else; he made to kiss his husband, but Harry shied away like his touch was burning him and walked over to the Slytherin table.

"Harry...", Blaise's voice trailed off unsurely after he had accommodated the slim Gryffindor on the seat next to him and opposite of Draco, "Did you and the Dark Lord fight?"

Harry shook his head mutely, though his hands trembled.

"Did something else happen?", Pansy asked from Harry's other side, "You look as stiff as a poker."

Harry winced as she made to lay an arm around his shoulder, but didn't look up or say anything.

"I swear if those stupid Gryffindorks did something to you...", Vince said gruffly and Harry whimpered lowly: "No, please,..."

Blaise and Draco exchanged a shocked glance before the older boy very cautiously moved his arm around Harry's shoulder while Draco persuaded Pansy none too kindly to switch seats with him.

Harry let loose a choked sob and clutch to the dark-haired Slytherin's shirt: "Don't leave, please, don't leave me."

Ted threw up some obscuring and privacy charms around them and Vince and Greg conveniently shifted so that they were blocking both the teacher's and the other houses' view on the scene as Draco just as cautiously hugged Harry from the other side.

"Tell us what's wrong, Harry", Draco said soothingly, sitting sideways on his chair.

"I don't know", the green-eyed boy sobbed, "I don't know, but I feel too much and it hurts and I'm scared. Make it stop, please, make it stop. It hurts."

"Is it your empathy, Harry?", Draco asked after a while, "Maybe your pregnancy is unbalancing it."

Harry gave something that might have been a shrug, but he was trembling so much now that it was hard to tell.

"Okay", Blaise suddenly said resolutely and grasped Harry's milky white hands and pressed them to his temples, "Read my feelings, Harry, we'll drown those other things you're feeling."

"Are you sure?", Harry whispered.

"Yes, come here", Blaise nodded, gingerly pulling Harry into his lap and Draco moved up so that he now sat in Harry's former chair.

The Gryffindor buried his head in the older boy's chest and concentrated on the brotherly love wafting his way, slowly relaxing under the steady supply of good feelings he received. It was okay like this, he felt secure, although he wished Draco wouldn't breath down his neck, but it wasn't his uncle, Blaise would protect him. He sat in Blaise' lap during the best part of dinner and only drew back as the sound of chairs scraping back broke his focus.

"Thank you", he timidly smiled up at the Italian boy, "I'm feeling much better now."

"Better as in you're back to normal or better as in it won't be long before you're back to the state you were in earlier", Blaise inquired.

"I think the later", Harry gulped uncomfortably, "But your feelings helped a lot."

"Harry, you can't have sex with the Dark Lord as long as you're feeling like this", the blond spoke up from behind him, "You couldn't even take a friendly pat on the shoulder."

"I have no choice, Draco", Harry replied firmly, though the thought alone of Tom touching him, made goosebumps appear on the skin of his arms, "There's the contract."

"Surely, if you told him...", Blaise suggested, however Harry shook his head fervently: "He mustn't know", he pleaded, "If he knew he'd hate me, he'd know I'm a freak. Please, don't tell him, promise me not to tell him!"

"Harry...", Draco intoned.

"No, Draco, please, don't tell him", Harry half turned around, almost dropping to the floor, "Please, promise me."

"Okay", the blond sighed, "But I have you know that I think, it's the wrong decision and I'm reserving the right to tell you 'I told you so' once it backfires in your face."

"You too, Blaise", Harry urged, "Promise me."

"Fine", Blaise, too, sighed and studiously began to wipe off the tear-tracks on Harry's face, who had slid into his own chair again.

"Why were there privacy charms around your table?", Tom demanded suspiciously as he got to the little group soon after.

"Ravenclaws", Draco lied smoothly without batting an eyelash, "They were trying to spy on us. We didn't want them to find out about Harry."

"Well, then", Voldemort looked a bit doubtful, but let it slip and instead turned to Harry, "Shall we go, Harry?"

Harry stood up jerkily, his right hand was clutching the inside of his robe pocket and his movements lacked the fluidity and gracefulness they usually possessed. Tom was really worried, more like frightened on Harry's behalf, who walked the corridors next to him, but put more distance than usual between them.

"Look, Harry", he said once inside their rooms, their bedroom, Harry had climbed the stairs like it was the only thing that could save him, like this simple movement preserved his sanity, "If I did something wrong..."

"Oh no, you didn't", _was that a tremble in Harry's voice?_, "I guess, I'm just nervous, you know..."

So his potion had worked. He was pretty sure, Harry would never have admitted to his feelings so easily. He slowly moved forward and Harry swivelled around to face him. His eyes looked somehow bigger, more childlike, even more innocent. Tom caressed his cheek lightly and Harry nuzzled into it, just enough to encourage him (not that he needed any encouragement, mind you) and he started to slowly unbutton Harry's shirt. Their was another shiver this time more noticeable. Well, it was pretty cold and with a flick of his wand their was a happy fire dancing in the heart, before he continued. The shivering became more prominent with every button he went down until Harry was shaking like a leaf in a mild autumn breeze, his teeth were digging into his bottom lip, drawing blood, but Tom couldn't see that because Harry was staring fixedly at the carpet beneath his feet.

"It'll be warmer soon", Tom murmured and kissed the soft patch of skin behind Harry's right ear, "It's takes a while for the warmth to spread."

He made to slide Harry's robes and his shirt to the floor, but something got caught somewhere near Harry's hands and it took a moment to free the fabric, letting it pool to the floor. Gently he put his arms around the slim form and lowered Harry to the silk-covered bed.

Harry let out a deep breath that almost sounded like a sob, but gave no further reaction, just laying stiffly on the huge four-poster. The red-eyed man watched while he undressed himself, as Harry's chest heaved with the effort to transport even amounts of air into his lungs.

He looked nervous, more vulnerable than ever before, but nonetheless very tempting. And Harry would stop him this time if he unintentionally hurt him, he reassured himself as he slipped his trousers and boxer-shorts down his long legs and crawled on the bed next to Harry. The small boy whimpered when he unbuckled his belt and got rid of the last clothes that separated their skin, but he didn't protest, merely started trembling again.

"If you want me at any time to stop, tell me and I will, little one", he vowed to his delicate husband before he kissed him on the lips this time.

It surprised him a little that no arms came up to wrap around his neck this time, that no response was given to his ministrations, but then Harry mewled suppressedly and he couldn't help but chuckle before he started to kiss, nip, and lick down the pale throat and to the small chest and his flat stomach. His hand was tangled in raven locks while Harry still lay on his back with his hands clenched in the black sheets, his eye closed and only little choked sounds escaping his mouth every once in a while.

Tom smiled triumphantly, Harry might be a little unsure now he had to face his fears and feelings, but in the long run that would be much better for Harry and the baby.

His little dream reality came crashing down on his head with a sickening loud thud in the moment he wanted to kiss, nip and lick up Harry's thigh, coming dangerously close to Harry's anus.

Harry shuddered violently before he kicked out, hitting Tom's chin, and then scrambled away, sobbing loudly: "No, I don't want to, go away, it hurts, no, stop, no, please, no,..."

"Harry, what is wrong...?", he asked worriedly, still holding his chin, but reaching out with the other hand to caress Harry.

"No, please, I'll be good, no, I'm sorry", Harry whimpered, curling even further into himself, "No, it hurts, please, not again,..."

"Shh, I won't hurt you, it's okay", he tried it again, but this time Harry scrambled away from the bed and crawled over to the door: "No, this is not right, go away. I hate you, leave me alone...", he fumbled with the door handle, finally wrenching it open, and tumbled down the steps.

"Harry, are you hurt?", Tom cried alarmedly, but after he had eventually got to his feet and hastened to the door, looking down the stairs, Harry was no where to be seen and the search of the bathroom, the living room and the kitchenette brought no Harry.

Severus, on his part, had had a remotely pleasant evening so far, sitting in his private chambers, in his favourite armchair near the fire with a rather intriguing book, concerning the use of Muggle medicine in potion brewing, and nursing a glass with the fine scotch from the bet with McGonagall about whose house would win the house cup the previous school year. He had already finished the correction of dim-witted homework essays and no teacher, including himself, had deemed it necessary to burden him with the presence of a detention-serving student. Harry's batch of potions was finished, the Wolfsbane Potion an two other experiments of his were quietly simmering in his lab and Dumbledore's transformation was wearing off, meaning McGonagall had finally ceased bothering him about doing something to **help** the old fool.

However, his peaceful evening was interrupted (rather rudely, if you want to know) by the frantic knocking on his private door, meaning the number of potential visitors came down to a number of more or less friends he would be inclined or obligated to offer some sort of help, should the person on the other side of the door want such, meaning it was out of the question to just ignore it or perhaps perform a deafening spell on himself. Still, that didn't necessarily mean that he would hurry to open the door.

In silent defiance he carefully marked the page in his book, also took some time to remember that he was on page number 487 just at the beginning of the second paragraph, then diligently placed the glass of scotch on the table not before taking a small sip, letting the brown liquid run down his throat soothingly, and then, stretching profusely, finally went to open the door.

"What is wrong with this potion?", the Dark Lord demanded, pushing past Severus and a bottle into the Potion's Master's hands, "Tell me what I did wrong!"

Severus sniffed the almost empty vial delicately, swaying it a little to test the consistency: "A potion to influence one's mind?", he asked disbelievingly, sniffing once more for good measure, "Who did you give it to?"

"It was a potion supposed to force Harry to give up his shields", Voldemort paced the room in agitation, "What is wrong with it?"

"Well, it's wrong because I'm pretty sure Harry didn't give his consent to this, it is wrong because Harry is not supposed to be taking any potions except the ones I made for him, it is wrong because Harry has a right for privacy, it is wrong...", Severus half sneered, half accused.

"What is wrong with the **potion**?", Tom stressed, glaring at Severus, "I didn't come here because I wanted you to act on your calling as an upholder of moral standards and I checked the stupid potion so that it wouldn't interfere with the pregnancy."

"The recipe", Severus said coldly, holding out his hand, "And what was Harry's reaction to this?"

Voldemort handed the book over before sinking onto the sofa himself and buried his head in his hands: "I thought everything was fine, but then he... I think he panicked, he scrambled away from me and told me to back off, that it hurt, that he... that he hated me."

"Did you do the potion exactly like this?", Severus clarified calmly, though his blood had run cold at the description; Voldemort nodded swiftly, "What were you doing when Harry panicked like this?"

"We wanted to have sex", Voldemort said without looking up, but without hesitation.

"It seems like you were the only one wanting to have sex", Severus said cruelly, "The potion worked as it was supposed to work."

"But then why was he so afraid, why did he run away from me?", Tom asked, trying to understand and to ignore the jab of pain at Severus' words.

"Because", Severus stopped to sort out his thought_, because you were going to rape him, because he thought you were his uncle, because_, "He's an empath, he has his shields up for a reason. Turner told us that he would go crazy without his shields. Well, congratulations, St. Mungo's will be honoured to finally get their hands on the boy-who-lived!"

"But Turner also said that it was not good if he kept everything bottled up, Severus", Tom said almost desperately, "I was trying to help him. I didn't want to hurt him anymore..."

"What do you mean?", Severus asked suspiciously.

"I hurt him when we have sex", Tom confessed, "I don't mean to, but I tear him. I prepare him as much as I can with your stuff, but it doesn't help. I thought that if I used this potion he would tell me when I was hurting him. I didn't know he hated me so much."

"Turner said it wasn't good for Harry to keep his feelings inside", Severus said more amicable, "But the potion not only forced those shields down, but all the shields Harry had and from his reaction I believe, he had a lot of shields. And I believe that he needs them, Mylord. Damnit, do you have any idea what Harry had to went through? Put two and two together, it's not that difficult!

"What are you talking about", Tom asked suspiciously, "Do you know something?"

"Well, obviously", the dark-eyed wizard sneered, "But if you can't even figure out that it's a bad idea to betray Harry like that, I don't believe you have any right to know. Maybe you should finally open your eyes to see what is right in front of them."

"We have to find him first", Tom stated, but it didn't sound as convinced as he would have liked, "I don't like the thought of him running naked through the castle."

"I don't think, he would appreciate our presence right now", the Potion's Master declined, "It will take about eighteen hours for the potion to be worked out of his system completely. If we're lucky he went to one of his friends, but I'd say the chances are slim. If he doesn't show up for breakfast we can start searching. When did you give him the potion?"

"This morning at breakfast in his coffee", Tom got up slowly as if a weight was pressing him down, "I'll see you tomorrow, Severus, thanks for your help and if you should see Harry... take care of him."

"I will, Mylord", Severus inclined his head, as he held open the door, "And, Mylord, I really don't think that Harry hates you... at least he didn't until you pulled this stunt."

"Good night, Severus", trotted of, the shadows obscuring his face in a matter of seconds.

"I don't even think he hates you now", Severus whispered to the retreating form, though much too low as if there was a chance his words could be heard, "He loves you too much for that."

* * *

**Okay, By now it should be clear that Harry is pregnant and so like every pregnant witch or in this case wizard he will not only have mood swings, but also food cravings. And that's where you come in: I would like to know what weird things should Harry eat? I know from my sister that she ate tons of ice cream while she was pregnant so what special craving should Harry have? **

**I'm waiting for suggestions and of course as always for your reviews...**


	40. Lifeless

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Nope, I don't.**

**Author's Note: Yay Chapter 40! Thanks for all your reviews and suggestions! Some made me gag, for some I had to look up the words before they made me gag and I thought that some were really cute. All in all you helped me a lot, so thank you.**

**Also I wanted to make something clear because I had a lot of people point it out to me: Yes, Tom is kind of clueless and I'm working on it, but I really think that he never had much of a chance to learn how to act around an abused, pregnant and insecure boy hero and though he is kind of oblivious, I don't think he's used to read a person's feelings. Harry does hide a lot, yes, but I think he still shows more emotions than Tom's Death Eaters and so Tom thinks he already konws everything that goes on with Harry and so he doesn't bother to find out what goes on behind Harry's masks... Well, I hope that made it clearer to you...

* * *

**

**40. LIFELESS**

The mood in the Great Hall the following morning was boisterous as always except at the Slytherin table, which was to be expected and at the teacher's table, where the tension was almost palpable. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore was sitting cheerfully in the middle of the table, chatting happily with Professor McGonagall and not very successfully with Professor Riddle, who was staring fixedly at the huge double doors, which caused several self-proclaimed Ravenclaw spies (it was mostly the lower years though, since the upper years were straining their grey matter to categorise this strange behaviour) to also stare at the doors as if it was the Quidditch world championship again, England was in the finals and the game was transferred to the double doors.

"And where might your dear husband be, Tom?", Dumbledore inquired with a subtle (and sickening) twinkle in his eyes, "I see no reason why he would be missing breakfast, after all breakfast is the most important meal especially for growing wizards. I do hope you didn't have a... what do you call it... marital quarrel?"

Tom's lips tightened until the blood had drained out from them and they almost looked white and when he turned around his red eyes seemed more prominent than usual, making him look fairly frightening. He didn't answer though, not directly, anyway, but let out a stream of colourful curses in Parseltongue, which, had he been able to understand, would have shocked even the white-bearded wizard, and then turned back to staring glumly at the doors, which finally opened to admit the green-eyed boy. Tom was with him in a matter of seconds, though he didn't dare touch him. Harry was clad in dark jeans and a green shirt that covered his arms completely, his one arm seemed to be broken by the way it hang crookedly at his side, and he had a few scratches on his face, but otherwise looked roughly okay.

/Harry, little one?/, Voldemort asked hesitantly/Are you alright? I can understand if you never ever want to talk to me again once you know what I did, but... I'll just tell you, okay? If you want to hit me, though, or curse me... I put a potion into your coffee last night that made you let down your shields. I... I'm sorry, Harry, I really am. I didn't think. Not really. Maybe, if you're considering forgiving me you can put into consideration that I wanted to help you, I didn't want to hurt you... But if you don't forgive me... It's not fine, but it's your good right and I'll try to stay out of your way and let you live your life. I... Could you please say something? Anything?/

"It was your right. It was your decision", Harry finally said and his voice made chills run down the backs of those who had heard him.

Not because he said it very menacingly or very coldly, but because it was so absolutely indifferent, absolutely calm, absolutely dead.

Tom stood like someone had struck him and Harry walked around him and to the Gryffindor table. His eyes were focused straight ahead, his steps were measured and identical, his poise was straight and unnatural. He sat down in the next best chair (between Colin and Dennis Creevey) and began to deliberately shovel porridge onto his plate until it was full and then started to eat it, chewing two times for every spoon before swallowing.

"Harry?", Neville had moved down the table and now sat opposite of Colin Creevey, "Are you alright?"

"I am alright", Harry answered in the same voice before chewing the next spoonful of porridge.

"You hate porridge, Harry", Neville said carefully, stopping Harry's hand movement, "What happened to you?"

The smaller boy finally looked up- with dead green eyes, which made Neville flinch back slightly before he got himself back under control: "I have to eat breakfast", Harry declared and freed his arm, methodically shovelling the food into his mouth.

"Where were you?", Draco and Blaise had scared two second years away, taking their seats, and Draco asked the question, "Severus and the Dark Lord were really worried about you. Sev woke me up in the middle of the night."

"The Forbidden Forest", Harry answered hollowly, finishing his breakfast and got up, walking out of the Great Hall.

"What happened to Harry?", Neville asked the two Slytherins.

"I don't know", Draco murmured and made to get up as well most likely to follow the black-haired empath.

"Tell me what you know then", Neville demanded, grabbing the blond's arm, "I'm Harry's friend, too, tell me what you know!"

"My rooms, now", a hoarse voice ordered from behind them and as the three boys turned around they found the Dark Lord, Severus, Rabastan and Rudolphus looking at them; the first motioned disquietingly for them to follow him and strode from the hall.

As the finally were all assembled in the living room and had found their seats, Tom confessed what he had done and all of them glared at him in shock and apparent anger.

"Well, when is this stupid potion of yours wearing off?", Neville hissed and Severus briefly wondered if Harry had taught him to look so angry before he answered: "It already wore off, but there seem to be some after effects we haven't anticipated, yet."

"He acts the opposite of how he acted yesterday", Draco said, boring his silver eyes into the Dark Lord for emphasis, "He couldn't even stand a hug without being deathly afraid. I guess, that escaped your notice, Voldemort, huh?"

"I. Tried. To. Help. Him", Tom pressed out, "I didn't know he would react so violently."

"Well, perhaps, then it would have been better if you had spent your time getting to know Harry and not poison him", Draco hissed back.

"You two made him cry just two days ago", Voldemort retorted, "He thought, you would hate him and that it was his fault. I helped you then- I think I can demand the same from you now."

"That was different", Blaise said defensively, "We wanted him to be honest for once so that we could help him better."

"That's what I wanted", Voldemort sighed, "Look, can we just try to help him now? You can hate me all you want, but Harry is more important than that, isn't he?"

"And how can we help him?", Neville asked more like his usual self, "What exactly are those after effects?"

"That's we want to find out, Longbottom", Severus sneered, "What was different with Harry today?"

"He was calm", Draco offered, "But not a positive sort of calm, more like indifferent, like he couldn't be bothered to care."

"His hand was cold as ice", Neville continued, "He never eats porridge, he hates porridge. And his eyes they were... hollow. Harry never sits with the Creevey brothers."

"He ate much too fast", Blaise observed, "Normally it takes him almost a whole hour to even eat half of what he ate today. He didn't come to greet us. He sounded like he had rehearsed it. He didn't seem to see us, just kind of stared through us."

"He seemed like a robot", Voldemort thought aloud, "Like a Muggle machine", he added for the other's benefit, "He submitted. He only spoke when spoken to. He walked straighter and more jerkily."

There was a long silence, in which the shower going could be heard.

Tom got up and knocked against the door frame: "Harry?"

"The door is open", a muffled voice called through the thick oak door and Tom backed off quickly: "He never leaves the door open, he would never allow me to go into the bathroom while he's in it, even if is he's only brushing his teeth, much less while he's taking his shower."

"Maybe...", Severus trailed off, unsure how too word his assumption, "Maybe, and I'm only guessing and I hope sincerely that I'm wrong, but maybe the onrush of so many feelings at once destroyed this part of him completely so that he doesn't feel anything anymore."

Neville gave a frightened squeak, Rudolphus and Rabastan grabbed each other's hands, Draco's fingernails dug into his palms, Blaise went pale as a sheet and Tom put his arms around his head, rocking slightly back and forth.

"Is there an alternative, Severus?", Voldemort almost pleaded, "Any cure, anything at all."

"Simon", Neville unexpectedly answered, "I'm going to send an owl to Simon and ask him what he thinks about this. He knows Harry best, he's an empath, he will know what to do", he tried to convince himself as much as the other wizards and then sprinted to the owlery.

"Maybe, it's like at my party", Blaise murmured to Draco, "For one or two minutes he almost looked like he did this morning."

Just then the bathroom door swung open, revealing a wet-haired Harry with only a towel around his waist. He didn't seem to mind the company at all and unhurriedly made his way through the room, climbing the steps, not even securing the towel, which was only loosely held together with one hand.

"Harry?", Tom called and stood up, Harry turned around looking in his general direction, "I wondered if you wanted me to fix your arm?"

Harry slowly began to descend the stairs again and without hesitating moved to stand in front of the Dark Lord.

"I thought after you got dressed", Tom muttered and Harry once again turned around to go get dressed, but Tom grabbed him by the shoulder this time, "No, now that you're here, I'll fix it", once the arm was healed, Tom let go of it reluctantly, "Would you mind if I kissed you?"

"No", Harry stood motionless as he carefully wrapped his arms around the lithe body and captured the soft lips.

No hands that reached up to embrace him, no mouth that reluctantly opened, no little sounds that told him the rubbing on his back was appreciated. Just nothing.

"Are you angry with me, Harry?"

"No."

"Have I hurt you?"

"It is your right."

"You should go and get dressed", he choked out; breathing was hard, it felt like someone had punched him in his stomach.

Harry turned around and this time climbed all of the steps disappearing in their bedroom. Tom missed the sound of a door closing.

/Sweet Merlin, what have I done?/, Voldemort said to himself before he turned back to the other wizards in the room, "You should go to your classes. I doubt, there's anything we can do without the empath or Harry giving us a sign what is wrong."

They nodded and got up. Draco hesitated before following the others. Tom slowly started to ascend the stairs. The door was indeed open and Harry was in the middle of changing into a new shirt. It was one of his old one's, much too big and of an indefinable colour. Harry slipped on his shoes, the robes followed.

"Do you want me to help you find your things?", he asked gently, Harry didn't seem to notice that he was even there, "How are you feeling, Harry?"

"I am feeling alright", Harry said evenly.

"Look, about yesterday night", Tom tried to explain once again, but Harry's further actions cut him off.

"You didn't finish", Harry began to undress; systematically.

First went his shoes, then his robes, then his shirt, then his jeans, then his socks, finally his boxer-shorts. He turned around, moved to the bed and lay down on his stomach, his ass lifted up from the bed, exposed for him to see. His legs were spread, ready to be fucked.

"Harry, I... What are you doing?", he asked, horrified, sitting down on the bed as well, but as far away from Harry as possible.

"Fulfilling the contract", Harry answered, "If you don't fuck me the contract is to be considered null and void."

"But, Harry, you don't have to do this", Tom almost pleaded, "I hurt you and I'm sorry, but please don't be like this", Harry gave no answer, just lay there waiting to be taken, "You don't have to do this."

"If you don't fuck me the contract will be considered null and void", Harry repeated after a while, "Then there will be war again."

"I promise not to start the war again, Harry", Voldemort's throat felt like he was being strangled, "You don't have to do this."

"If you don't fuck me the contract...", Harry said once again.

"I know this, Harry, but do you really want me to fuck you?"

"I want the contract", Harry said evenly, "If you don't fuck me you'll start the war again."

"I won't, Harry, please get dressed again", Harry didn't budge, didn't look up, didn't say anything.

As Tom touched him he gave no reaction either and the Dark Lord hated himself for what he did next, but he couldn't stand the thought of Harry laying here all day, repeating this one sentence over and over again. For the first time as they had sex he needed the tightness of Harry's body to come because Harry made no move, no sound, nothing. And as he had spurted his semen into Harry and pulled out Harry got up and dressed again. Systematically.

He felt more like saw it that he finished and went down, most likely to pack his things and go to class. It was almost funny, he had murdered, he had tortured, he had lied, he had betrayed, but he never felt more like a criminal than as in the precise moment Harry left the room without looking back. He had made Harry- his beautiful, funny, caring Harry- a prostitute, a whore. He had raped him, he had broken him, he had destroyed him.

When he was sure Harry had left his rooms he stood up as well, put his clothes back on and went to his first class, he was almost half an hour late, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He let the second year Slytherins read in their book- he wasn't even sure what they were reading and he was too preoccupied to give them any homework.

He took a long scalding hot shower in his free period and changed the bedclothes, burning the old ones. He felt much better after that. Harry wasn't completely lost yet, there was still the empath and maybe Harry was just in shock right now. Denial was bliss.

Harry's class was next and he took his time to prepare the pictures he would be showing them, arranging them in the right order, and to go once more through his lesson plan. The lesson was purely theoretical this time and maybe that was good so. The history of vampires.

Harry's behaviour hadn't changed. He was flanked by Blaise and Draco as the students came in, he didn't seem to notice, he took his usual seat, he began to unpack his things. Systematically. First his book, then his homework, which he put parallel to it, then some parchment, parallel to the homework, then his wand, parallel to the parchment, then his ink well, in the upper right corner, finally his quill, parallel to the spare parchment. Draco and Blaise had watched his system the same as he had, but didn't say anything. Harry looked straight ahead at the black board, his hands folded in his lap, his back straight, his legs building a right angle.

Tom called for attention, Harry's line of sight didn't change. He collected the homework papers, Harry offered his with his right hand, without looking up. He began his lecture, everybody took notes (though he had to admonish Weasley), Harry took them, too, on everything he said like Granger.

He didn't dare keep Harry after the class had ended. Harry systematically packed his things. Draco and Blaise waited for the younger boy, he didn't seem to notice.

During dinner Harry sat with the Gryffindors once again. He filled his plate with the next best things, which happened to be mashed potatoes, and wordlessly shovelled it into his mouth. Neville tried to make conversation, but Harry only ever gave monosyllabic replies, if any. He stood up in the middle of Neville's sentence and unhurriedly, but without reluctance walked through the double doors.

As Tom later on came into their rooms Harry was sitting at his desk and was doing homework. Harry never did his homework at his desk- he sat folded up in own of the beanbags or the rocking chair, he lay on the floor, he did it at the table while eating, but he never did it at his desk and especially not like he had swallowed a broomstick.

Once again his things were arranged systematically. He didn't look up as Tom entered, gave no reaction he had heard the door click shut. He continued working when Tom gently gripped his shoulders and began to nibble his neck or when he captured the unresisting lips. He carefully lifted him out of the chair, taking the quill from his fingers and throwing it at the desk.

"It is time for bed, little one", he murmured into Harry's ear, "Go and get changed and brush your teeth."

Harry did so without complaint. He lay on his back, his arms at his sides, Lami wasn't even touched.

* * *

**Okay, since it worked so fabulously last time, I'll blackmail you once again cackles evilly. If I get over 40 reviews for this chapter, you'll get a chapter with about 8500 words (my word count is kind of weird and it always says I have more words than I have when I let ffnet count my words #shrug#). If I get under 40 reviews the next chapter will be cut into two. And please don't take offence since you will get a chapter in any case and if it makes you happy, I'm not blackmailing those of you who always review. You guys are just great!!!**

**Oh, and sorry it took me so long to update this. I had it already written, but than my alerts didn't work once again and since I figured it wouldn't work for you either I didn't update...**


	41. Do you love me?

**Disclaimer: What would I do if I owned all these wonderful characters? Well, firstly there would be a lot of gay couples, then Ginny wouldn't exist, Tom wouldn't look like death warmed over and Severus would wash his hair every once in a while. The list goes on and on, but let's not go there. Wishful thinking sigh beacuse this doesn't belong to me...**

**Author's Note: This chapter contains ABUSE and RAPE, it's once again in a flashback so if you don't like it you can just skip that paragraph in italics... Other than that I would just like to state that blackmail is great...

* * *

**

**41. DO YOU LOVE ME?**

It went like this for the next four days. Harry didn't laugh, he didn't cry, he gave no outward reaction that what was happening around him held any meaning to him, he didn't object, he didn't speak unless he was asked directly, he did everything systematically.

Nothing anyone did could change that. Neville once dumped a bowl of porridge on Harry, but Harry just continued eating, not minding in the least that his toast was covered with the mushy substance. Tom joined him under the shower running his hands over every part of his body, Harry didn't wince, didn't shy away, didn't scream at him, just tolerated it without showing emotion. Blaise and Draco tried to make him play Quidditch, but Harry just hovered a few centimetres over the ground. Vince yelled in his ear. Rudolphus and Rabastan attacked him in the hallway. Luna pushed him outside when it was raining. And Severus told him some rather positive stories about his parents, but nothing startled a reaction out of him.

On Friday at dinner time there was an incident of another nature, though it got the same reaction. Harry was once again sitting at the Gryffindor table with Luna and Neville, who tried to make him eat something else as beans at least. The Ravenclaws and Slytherins were strangely subdued and Sophia Sweetin was quietly conversing with the head boy, Cian Garragh, who pointed her to where Draco and Blaise sat with dark looks focused on Harry. She nodded swiftly and walked towards them.

"What is wrong with Harry Potter?", she asked in her best teacher's voice and immediately a hush settled over the students.

"Look it up in a book, Sweetin", Draco hissed testily, "I have better things to do than to entertain you."

"For example staring at Harry?", she gave back, "Doesn't seem to help much, does it?"

"You don't know what you're talking about", Draco snarled, "I don't see you having a better idea."

"That is because you don't want to tell me what's wrong, Malfoy", she reasoned, "It's not like you can keep it a secret much longer when he stays like that. And I believe we both don't want that."

"Fine", Draco got up, "Look at him. He's dead, Sweetin. That is what is wrong with him, he's a fucking Zombie!", he screamed the last word, finally cracking and stormed out of the room.

Blaise made to follow him, but turned to the tall girl once more: "Sweetin, look up what you can find on mental shields if you want to know what is wrong with Harry, but I doubt you will find anything we haven't thought about before...", then he went after his best friend, not before throwing a last desperate look at the black-haired Gryffindor.

For one whole minute the hall was utterly quiet and most everyone had stopped eating- except Harry, of course, who continued shovelling beans into his mouth, chewing twice before swallowing, not aware of the eyes that rested on him.

Suddenly the doors banged open with such force that more than ten candles went out and a tall, thin, black-haired woman with heavy lidded eyes and black eye shadow emerged. She used to be very beautiful but the years of constant fanatism had destroyed even the last trace of it. She screamed. Not pained, but furious, a bit a spittle ran down her chin.

"You", the insults seemed to escape her as she pointed at Harry, who was finishing the last spoonful of beans, "You will pay for this."

Harry didn't react, not even as she stormed towards him, but put down his spoon parallel to his plate on top of the napkin and got up, despite Neville's attempts to stop him.

"Bellatrix", Rudolphus had descended the few steps and blocked her way, "You have no business to be here, if the Dark Lord knew..."

"He would thank me", she screamed at him and hurled him backwards so that he landed on top of the Hufflepuff table, "He would thank me for freeing him from that little minx. Thank me above everyone else..."

"You have hurt my brother for the last time, you old hag", Rabastan had pulled out his wand, but as if she had foreseen what he would do, she stunned him and he stiffly dropped to the floor.

"Your whole family is retarded", she sneered, "Is ickle little Basti going to cry now because the bad woman hurt his brother? I will deal with you later, no-one casts me aside!"

She cast a Crucio on his slack form and his muscular limps twitched before she turned back towards Harry, who purposefully strode past her. Her hand clamped around his shoulder, her crawl-like fingernails digging through his robes, before she backhanded him, making Harry tumble to the floor. He made no move to break his fall with his hands.

"See, now you're where you belong in the dirt to my feet", she hissed and kicked the small boy before she threw curse after curse at him, "I'll teach you not to mess with your superiors."

Harry had started to bleed, but no sound escaped his throat, no movement betrayed that he was even alive, nothing was done to protect himself, although Neville, who was nearest to them and stared with wide eyes at the woman who had done so much harm to his family, thought he saw a shield flicker for a moment, which settled over his stomach.

Everything was happening so fast that neither the students nor the present teachers had yet overcome their shock to help Harry, but some of the lower years had started to cry or to scream, which could be heard from far away.

Lucius, Severus and Tom were hastening to the Great Hall. The later two had waited for the first to arrive in Severus' office since for some reason Dumbledore deemed it a too great security risk to connect Tom's and Harry's room with the Floo network.

Both black-haired men had little hope that Lucius would have a solution to their Harry-problem, but by now they were already so desperate that they were willing to try anything. Well, not yet anything, Tom admitted. Lucius was his last resort before he would have to contact Harry's godfather or to either bring Harry to the empath or the other way round. Both were options that would most likely involve a lot of screaming and him getting over the head and though he was willing to do so for Harry's sake, he was too much of a Slytherin to do so before eliminating all other options. And the last of those options happened to be Lucius.

As mentioned before they were hastening towards the source of the noise, Tom in the lead, who as he saw what one of his Death Eaters was doing completely lost his temper.

It is a unwritten rule to never make a Dark Lord lose his temper, which obviously Bellatrix hadn't heard of yet.

For the first time the assembled students and teachers saw why Professor Riddle was considered one of the most dangerous individuals alive. Up until then they had perceived him as a more or less okay guy, stern but mostly fair, sometimes sarcastic but not overly cruel, overall a mixture between Professor McGonagall and Snape.

But now the nice facade crumbled, revealing a furious powerful wizard with burning red eyes and a wand and mouth that moved too quick to follow. Within minutes Bellatrix was disarmed and pinned to one of the Gryffindor tapestries with knives. Some only went through her robes but others pierced her skin making her give out an inhuman shriek. Her hair was set on fire, burning in the matter of seconds, the flames eating away from her scalp, illuminating her face in a ghostly light. The next curse seemed to be breaking every bone in her body, from her nose to her little toe and sometimes the white material poked through her pale skin, letting rivulets of blood drop to the floor. A truly maniac grin spread over his in anger contorted face and with an elegant swish of his wand the gargoyle that was conveniently place over her began to spit boiling tar.

"No-one touches what is mine, Bella", he finally hissed, "This is the last time you had the change to go against my direct orders. Ha, isn't it ironic, tarred and feathered, Bella, like a common cheat? Like a pathetic Muggle? They sure are inventive like that", white feathers began to slowly waft down on her now black and smoking body, the smell of burning human flesh wasn't even masked by the smell of tar, "Bellatrix Black, killed through Muggle means, if that isn't something to write on your tombstone..."

"Tom", Lucius grabbed his arm, "Let me handle this, take care of Harry instead."

During his fit of rage Lucius had revived the two Lestranges, who now also trained their wands on the once so proud witch, and Severus had animated Madam Pomfrey and together they had treated the worst of Harry's wounds. He was still unconscious.

Tom's eyes swivelled around to rest on the small pile of Harry and he nodded to Lucius, snapping Bellatrix wand: "Dispose of the body", he murmured lowly before kneeling down next to Harry and his two caretakers, "How is he?"

"We treated his wounds as best as we could", Madam Pomfrey's voice was a bit shaky, though if that was due to the Dark Lord or to Harry's condition was anyone's guess, "Some of his wounds however have to heal the natural way. Surprisingly enough **everything else** is healthy. You can take him to your rooms if you want."

Tom nodded and gently lifted the small boy into his arms: "I'll bring him by in the morning or if something unforeseen happens."

He didn't look back to see Lucius transport the deformed body of Bellatrix into a box, sealing it smell prove and levitating it outside, while Rudolphus, Rabastan and Severus repaired the damage done to chairs, plates and tables.

Once in their room he ran a bath for Harry, carefully choosing the right temperature, and washed the blood and leftovers from Harry. He was almost thankful that Harry was still unconscious. He wasn't sure he could bear to look into those dead eyes again. Tom then towelled him dry and carried him, wrapped in his bathrobe, to the sofa, putting two blankets around him.

As all this was done he sat down near Harry's head, turned his back towards him and began to cry. He couldn't remember ever having cried before. Most likely he did when he was still a little child, but he had certainly never cried like this. It wasn't loud or with a lot of wailing involved, with flying limps and balled fists, it was quiet, suppressed. His shoulders didn't shake and his mouth was set in a firm line, but still there were tears running down his face. Tears because he had lost Harry, his Harry. Because he had destroyed him, broken him, used him. Because the only person who had been willing to see more in him than a powerful wizard was dead. Because all that was left was a shell, an empty shell.

Harry woke to a overwhelming wave of sadness, of desperation, so clear and pure that he slowly got on to his knees and looked for the source of such sorrow. Tom. One pale hand hesitantly reached out and patted the strong shoulder.

"Oh, Harry", Tom cradled the surprised boy to his chest, the skinny arms closed around his neck and the face was buried in the crook of his neck, "I'm so sorry, Harry. You have to believe me, I never meant for it to be like this. I wanted you to be happy and I wanted to give you a good life and everything you could ever wish for. I love you, Harry. And I'll make sure you have everything, I'll take care of the baby, too, and I'll tell them what a great father they had and I'll... Oh, Salazar, Harry, I need you so much. I would give everything if it meant I got you back. I didn't want to break you..."

"You didn't break me, Tom", Harry whispered and tightened his arms, "I'm here."

"Harry?", Tom whispered back incredulously, "Please, tell me this is not a dream."

"This is not a dream", Harry assured him.

Tom didn't answer right away, but began to slowly map Harry's face with kisses, Harry flushed brightly but purred happily. As Tom heard this he laughed in relief and swirled Harry around, dancing through their whole quarters (of course still preserving the dignity and authority of a Dark Lord) before he finally plopped down on the sofa again, Harry in his lap.

"I thought I had lost you", he murmured lowly and hugged Harry tighter to his body, "I thought I had broken you."

"I'm sorry", Harry ducked his head, "I... don't know."

"I'm the one who is supposed to be very sorry, Harry", Tom started to caress his face, "And I am. I don't know what you remember of the last week, but I will apologise as long as it takes for you to forgive me or to decide that you don't want me in your life anymore..."

"Can I ask you something?", Harry wanted to know, "About what you said?"

"You can do whatever you want", Tom reassured him and waited patiently for Harry to collect his nerves.

"Did you say that you love me?", the petite Gryffindor finally inquired and Tom, though he hadn't expected that question, nodded earnestly: "I do. I love you, Harry James Potter, and I have done so for a while, I just never had the nerve to tell you and my actions of the past month don't exactly speak in my favour, but I am in love with you and if you give me one more chance I'll do anything to prove it to you."

"Tom, I... I forgive you", Harry said after a while, "But you can never do this again."

"I promise", Tom answered seriously, "And I know that it was wrong of me, but I wanted to know what you feel when we have sex. I didn't know it was so horrible for you."

"Do you really want to feel what I feel, Tom?" the green-eyed boy returned with a searching look, "Because I can show you."

"I want to know", the Dark Lord said without hesitation and Harry led his large hands to his own temples, putting his smaller ones over them and pressed lightly: "Then close your eyes and concentrate on me."

Tom did so and moments later he was flooded with a wide range of feelings: foreboding, nervousness, angst, trust, desperation, hate, pain, loneliness, pleasure, betrayal, hurt, comfort, shame, he felt used, dirty, sated, frightened, alone and so cold. Suddenly it stopped and he looked again into the clear green eyes of his husband.

"I don't draw up these shields to spite you, Tom", he explained calmly, "But because I need them. I need them so that I can concentrate on the positive feelings, on you. Without them I drown. And what you did to me forced me to relive every feeling everyone in this stupid castle had. Do you know how twisted Dumbledore is even if he's a garden gnome? I was so afraid, Tom, and it hurt. And I did hate you, because you had done this to me, I nearly broke. I went to the Forbidden Forest, the unicorns helped me until the potion finally wore off and then I built up every shield full force because I never wanted to feel like this again, Tom."

"I'm sorry", Harry had started crying somewhere in his speech and Tom gingerly combed through his hair, "I just thought it was important that I don't hurt you or the baby when we have sex."

"That is not your fault, Tom", Harry blushed again, "I... I told Madam Pomfrey about it and she said that as long as it was just a little it would be okay. I would have told you if it got to far."

"The way I understood it, it sounded like you were in mortal peril", Tom muttered, "I didn't want to risk you. I did exactly the wrong thing."

"Everyone makes mistakes sometimes", Harry kissed his cheek before snuggling into his chest, "You just happen to make a few big ones instead a lot of little ones."

"Do you really forgive me?", Tom asked again, "I could understand if you didn't and you deserve a lot of apologises for what I did."

"It's okay", Harry smiled, "Everything turned out fine, didn't it?"

"Yes, thanks to Bellatrix", Tom spat and Harry looked at him with confusion: "What has she got to do with anything?"

"Don't you remember?", Voldemort asked concernedly, "She attacked you at dinner today and after you woke up you were back to normal again. She must have somehow cracked your shields again."

Harry began to snicker quietly at first, but soon it turned into a rather loud laugh: "No, Tom, you did that!", he kissed the older man's nose, "You cracked my shields. I woke up because I could **feel** so much sorrow radiating from you. Normally a person feels many different things at the same time. You're stressed about your job, you're sad that your goldfish died, you're exited about your friend coming to visit you and your curious how the book you're reading will develop. But you only felt sadness and despair and it cracked my barriers. They only work as long as they are strained equally, but your feelings attacked at one sole point and that broke the dam. You saved me, you alone. Thank you."

"It was the least I could do", Tom said considerably more happy and laughed with Harry, "I'm so damn lucky I have you."

"My words exactly", Harry gave back cheekily and dodged the punch aimed at his arm, "So you love me? How does that feel like?", he blushed brightly and hid his face in Tom's robes again.

"It's hard to explain", Tom thought about his words, "Definitely good, though, but it's okay when you don't feel the same. I can hardly expect that of you. You owe me nothing."

Harry sighed and whispered a quiet thank you in his ear: "So what happened during the last week?"

"You don't remember?"

"Not much. Only snippets and it's kind of hard for me to recollect them. I always remembered everything on the basis of emotions, I guess. Now that they're missing so completely it doesn't make sense anymore", Harry answered and waited for the reply to his own question.

"I... Salazar, Harry, are you sure you don't remember because I did something really vile to you", Harry just continued to look questioningly at him and so he continued after taking a deep breath, "I didn't want to, well, in a way I of course wanted to, but I wouldn't have done it if the circumstances had been different. I... You kind of insisted, of course it's not your fault, I shouldn't have nonetheless, but I did and...", he faltered, Harry looked really concerned now.

"Just say it, Tom. I'm sure you had you're reasons for whatever you did."

"I raped you", he confessed in a whisper, "You said that I should. You wanted to fulfil the contract and you were naked and you wouldn't get dressed again so I did it... I'm so incredibly sorry."

"That's okay", Harry said softly, "I'm glad you did."

"What... but...", Voldemort spluttered and pulled back, "You can't be glad. Why are you glad?"

"I know this sounds weird, but this way I don't owe you anything", Harry murmured, "I don't feel like I must do... it. Less pressure. Do you understand that, Tom?"

"You really don't like having sex with me", Tom replied, "Is there anything, anything at all that you enjoy of what I do to you?"

Harry blushed and lowered his head embarrassedly: "I like a lot of things, just not sex..."

"Really, tell me", the black-haired man urged gently and with a small smile.

"I like the kisses", Harry blushed an even deeper shade of red, but continued as he saw the smile grow bigger, "I like the way you rub my back and stomach. I like how you say those pet names, I like it that you use them at all. I like it when you pet my hair and kiss my neck or behind my ear. I like how you look into my eyes as if I was the most important person on the planet. I like that you take care of me. I like the thing that you did with your mouth that one time", he continued before he had time to blush even more, "I like the way you wrap your arms around me when we go to sleep and that you make me feel absolutely safe. I like to hear you speak Parseltongue. I like your smile. I like to dance with you. I like it that you're human. I like to sit in your lap. I like how you can be so possessive it's almost insulting. I like it that you are not intimidated by anyone. I like... I like a lot of things."

"Well, that is good to know", Tom laughed and kissed Harry's lips suavely, "So, would it be okay if we did those things more often? I'm sure I can make your list still a bit longer."

"I'd like that", Harry gave back insecurely.

"If you don't like something or if I ever go to far you will tell me, won't you, precious?"

Harry hmmed lowly before he curled up in his lap, pulling at the blankets to cover him: "So what else happened?"

"Nothing really", Tom thought it over a moment, "Longbottom wrote to the empath, but he hasn't answered yet. You had a long talk with Dumbledore in his office, but he seemed rather frustrated when I came to fetch you so I don't think you were very co-operative. Everyone was really worried about you and we tried everything we could come up with, it was really frustrating, rather frightening, too..."

"I'm sorry", Harry whispered and made to get up, "I have to apologise to them and tell them that I'm okay again."

"You can do that tomorrow when you're healed and rested", Tom protested, but the green-eyed wizard wouldn't have it: "I worried them the whole week, the least I can do is to tell them now."

"You are hurt, they will understand, Harry", Tom argued, "Come, sit back down, kitten."

"No", Harry moved out of his arm's reach, "If the state you were in is anything to go by, they are hurt, too. Wouldn't you have wanted to know if I had woken in the infirmary for example and Madam Pomfrey was the one to find out?"

"We'll go see Longbottom, then he can tell his girl-friend and then we will visit Severus, who can inform everyone else", Tom compromised and scooped Harry up into his arms, "And you're not to stress your right leg, since it was broken."

The small boy happily smiled at him and nuzzled his neck as Tom opened the door to the hallway with one hand while supporting his back with the other. It was already past midnight and Tom doubted sincerely that Longbottom was even still awake- he certainly didn't look liable to having an all night-party- but on the other hand it was definitely not his problem if they raised him from his slumber. To be honest that sounded rather satisfying.

The Fat Lady was having a midnight-coffee party with some other gossiping portrait friends of her and it took a while before she became aware of their presence and when the portrait hole finally swung open the whole party gave indignant squeaks and screamed in protest. Tom rolled his eyes and Harry chuckled at his expression.

"Have you ever been here before?", Harry asked curiously while he pointed to the staircase that led to the boys' dormitory.

"No and I have no personal desire to every visit this again", he said distastefully, "How can you decorate a room in red and gold, anyway? And a hole as an entrance? This seems like the bouncy castle for eleven years up."

"Shh, you'll wake them", Harry shushed him, though he was still smiling, "Neville's bed is the one in the back at the right side."

The Dark Lord let him down reluctantly and Harry pulled open the curtains, through which a pyjama-clad arm had already poked out, and gently, but persistently began to shake the other boy awake while one hand precautiously hovered over his mouth should he decide to scream.

"Whatthamatta?", Neville blinked his eyes open, "We already have a Magic-Milkshake-Mixer, we're not interested", Harry snickered quietly and pinched his shoulder, which seemed to fully wake the other Gryffindor, "Harry? Is that you?"

"Yes, Neville", Harry tugged his hair nervously, but before he could start with his profuse apology, Neville had drawn him into his arms: "Merlin, Harry, I was so worried. You're okay now, aren't you? You're back to normal, right? Shit, Harry, you scared me. Hermione said, you had committed suicide or something like that and then Malfoy yelled through the Great Hall that you were dead... Never do this again."

"I'm sorry, Neville", Harry sniffed, "Don't be angry, please?"

Neville laughed happily at that: "You're really back, Harry! And no, I'm not angry and you don't have to apologise."

"Fine, that's settled then", Tom spoke up and once again lifted Harry into his arms, "Mr. Longbottom, if you would be so kind as to inform Miss Lovegood of the development? Harry belongs into bed."

"Good night, Nev."

"Good night, Harry", Neville returned, "And don't worry, I'll tell Luna."

Harry smiled at him over Tom's shoulder before he snuggled deeper into the older man's embrace, who soon after found his dialogue partner less than responsive and indeed fast asleep. He chuckled ruefully at the thought to wake him once more, but decided that since Harry had insisted on this he could at least feel a little annoyed, too. However, when he looked into Harry's peaceful face he second-guessed this estimation and so when he passed their rooms he carefully carried Harry up the stairs and put him into bed, covered him with his Gryffindor blanket and gave him his teddy-bear, heartened to see him curl around the white plushie, and regretfully parted to inform the others.

"You look like somebody died", he commented as he step into Severus rather full quarters, noting the sombre mood and the eerie silence that hung over the room and its occupants.

"That's rather fitting, isn't it?", Draco sneered from where he sat leaning against his father.

"That depends", Voldemort took a seat as well, "I don't believe your aunt's death warrants such grim faces."

"Not her, you dork", Draco hissed, "Harry. Do you think this is a fucking joke? Without Harry you are nothing! A pathetic, little pile of nothing! Harry deserved so much better than you...", Draco's voice broke as he yelled the last sentences, but his stance was still belligerent and aggressive.

"I know that", Tom sighed, "And so I'm very lucky he's back to normal again."

The silence seemed to tenfold, rising drastically till it was deafening, till it felt like the whole room was filled with cotton before a loud 'what' burst from six throats almost simultaneously.

"Come again?", Blaise was the first to regain his wits.

It was a good thing, he never had a problem with being stared at- being the best-looking guy both in the school and in the orphanage caused that- or he would have squirmed like a worm on wobble pudding at the many stares he received now: "Harry's sleeping now in our rooms. He was rather persistent that you should all know about this as soon as possible and from his earlier experience with Longbottom, I can tell you that he's really sorry for worrying you, that he begs you not to be angry with him and that he's truly fine."

"How?", Severus asked, a bit of intellectual curiosity shining through his otherwise indifferent tone.

Voldemort shrugged, not really up to telling them that he had cried over his love: "He just woke up and was back to normal. He said he had had his barriers up full force, which was the reason he has been so... lifeless."

"It was not my sister-in-law, was it?", Lucius inquired, "What did you do to make him feel again, Tom?"

The black-haired man scowled at him, but decided to answer nonetheless, though he told himself, he was only doing so because Harry would tell them anyway if they asked and so he at least had the chance to leave out some not so important facts: "I might have been just a little bit uncontrolled in regards to my feelings and since I seem to have felt only one emotion at the time, Harry's shields cracked under the pressure of such an intense feeling."

"Are you sure he isn't going to build his shields back up, Mylord?", Rabastan inquired, still not fully convinced.

"Well, he promised Longbottom he wouldn't", Tom replied, "And I don't think he did it on purpose. Plus, he was really upset when I told him how worried everyone was. So I don't think he will do it again, unless provoked... And I certainly have no inclination to repeat that experience", he stood up again, brushing imaginary dust from his robes, "You may come by tomorrow- at a reasonable time. I don't think Harry will be up to leaving our rooms other than for the infirmary", he nodded curtly at his Death Eaters, fixing the younger Malfoy with his red eyes for a moment, before he swept out of Severus' rooms and made his way back up to his little Gryffindor.

Harry sat curled up in the rocking chair, his eyes were screwed shut and his pale cheeks were glistering with tears, his arms were wrapped around his stomach and it looked like he was developing a fever. He cursed under his breath while gently halting the rocking motion of the chair and starting to tenderly caress Harry's face.

"I'm sorry, Harry but I can't give you another one of those potions. You already ingested a lot of potions today", he carefully loosened Harry's hold on his legs and began to rub his stomach soothingly, "Do you want me to bring you to Madam Pomfrey so that she can supervise you?"

Harry shook his head weakly and tried to pull his knees back up, but Tom's hand stopped him.

"Would you like to take a bath, perhaps?", he tried to make Harry relax, but he once again shook his head, "Well, then you should sleep. Why are you down here, anyway? I clearly remember putting you in bed."

"Threw up", Harry mumbled, "Nothing left in me now. Couldn't find the potion against nausea."

"Do you need one now?", Tom asked concernedly, but Harry once again declined, "Shall I make you a tea? Or maybe a hot cocoa?", he asked after he had tucked Harry in and brushed the hair out of his forehead to check him for fever- it felt too warm to be completely natural.

"Cocoa would be great", Harry had curled up again, but was at least looking at him now and tried a little smile, which ended in a wince and a painful whimper.

"I'll be back in a minute", Tom assured him and true to his word 57 seconds later he sat down on the edge of the bed and gently propped the smaller wizard up before handing him the mug of steaming hot cocoa.

Harry blew on the brown liquid cautiously before sipping testingly. The older wizard watched with rapt attention as the mug's content disappeared between Harry's pink lips and with some amusement noted that some of the foam stuck to Harry's upper lip. After Harry had finished half of the cocoa he put the mug on his nightstand and slid back under the covers and pulled Lami to his chest.

"Do you feel better now?", the Dark Lord asked still rather worried and Harry nodded lightly, "Anything else I can do for you?"

"No", Harry seemed to be fighting for the next words, but finally overcame his insecurity and reached out for him, "Why don't you come to bed?"

The red-eyed man didn't need to be told twice and soon after he slipped under the blankets and tenderly pulled Harry to his chest, kissing his neck and placing on hand on his stomach, not lifting his pyjama top, and began to rub in slow circles. He was not really tired and the thought to watch Harry was much more appealing.

"Tom?", he hummed to show him he was listening, "Did you tell the others that I was alright?"

"Yes, I did", he pressed his lips into Harry's unruly hair, "Don't worry about it. They were all very understanding and I think they will come by later in the day to look after you."

"Thank you", Harry mumbled before he once more fell silent.

Tom was just beginning to doze off, despite his earlier estimation that he wasn't tired, as the small body in his arms convulsed and a gasp of pain escaped Harry's parted lips. Not knowing what else to do, he pulled Harry even closer and murmured comforting words into his ear, all the while caressing the delicate wizard.

"I thought you said you were feeling better", he commented after the seizure had worn off.

"I was, too", Harry defended himself weakly and Tom immediately felt guilty as he saw the pained expression on Harry's small face, "Can you tell me something? A story or something like that? Distract me?"

He refrained from even going near the topic of **distracting** Harry in a completely different way: "I could tell you a more detailed version of the last week, unless you want to hear something nice?"

"No, that's fine", Harry muttered, though he didn't sound to thrilled and settled more comfortable against his chest, loosening the hold he had on him.

"Do you really feel better now?", he asked almost two hours later, Harry's breathing was even, his slim form had relaxed somewhat and the tears had long since subsided.

"Yes", Harry smiled rather convincingly, if he said so himself, "But I'm absolutely not tired. I think I'm going to read through some of my homework. I have a feeling those works aren't very good."

"Would you mind to just stay here... and talk", Tom asked almost pleadingly, "As long as you're here in my arms I know that it wasn't just a dream, that you're truly back."

"Okay", Harry relented and turned around so that they were facing each other, "What would you like to talk about?"

"You", he said immediately and Harry blushed, "I feel like everybody around me knows more about you than I do. Lucius got all cryptic when I asked him about you. Draco took to glaring at me whenever your name is as much as mentioned and that was not only this last week, though I must say then he had a rather valid reason. Rudolphus and Rabastan always have those silent conversations going on and I have no idea what is their secret. Severus nearly bit my head off for giving you that potion and he didn't really look surprised by your reaction. You see, I have no problem if you tell them about our sex-life or your life in general, but could you maybe talk to me as well? I want to know you're secrets as well. Tell me one secret **they** don't know, please?"

"I could tell you what I wanted to do with my life", Harry said hesitantly, "But that's in the past now, anyway."

"I doesn't have to be", Tom urged him, "Unless, of course, it was to kill me and hunt down all my followers, but if I remember correctly,

you didn't like that thought very much..."

"No, I... you mustn't laugh, okay?", he nodded in agreement and Harry continued, "I wanted to be a healer. In the Muggle World. That's why Simon brought me all those notes. I had planned to finish here and then to move somewhere far away. I always liked the thought of America. The land of the free and all this stuff, it sounded really good at the time. I wanted to get my high school graduation and then find some small university to study medicine. I would have got some books on healing magic and used it to help those patients. I most likely would have blown my cover soon, anyhow..."

Harry's voice, which had had a dreamy quality in the beginning, floated of sadly: "You can still do that, Harry", he promised earnestly and took one of those milky-white hands into his, "You can become a healer. Even in the Muggle World if you want to, though it would be a shame to hide your magic from those around you. Or you can just do an healer apprenticeship and help the wizards and witches who come to you. I won't stand in your way if you really want to leave the Wizarding World and we can go to America and start anew if that is what you want."

"I'm not sure I want it anymore", Harry whispered, "And it wouldn't be right of me to demand of you to give up everything just for one childish dream..."

"If you really want it, it's not childish", he gave back, "And if it made you happy I would follow your dream as well."

"I would miss them", the petite Gryffindor confessed, "Before this year I only had Sirius and Remus. They would have come with me or I would have gone with them, but it would have worked. Ron and Hermione... They always had each other, I guess, and they didn't notice me, anyway. I thought it would be good to be away from them so that Ron wouldn't think I was stealing all his attention. But now I have you and all those other people. I would miss them."

"They would miss you, too, precious", he agreed, "But that doesn't mean you can't become a healer in our world and in England. I'm sure you will be great."

"Thank you", Harry's cheeks tinted pink, "I'll think about it."

"You do that", Tom agreed, happily allowing the small wizard to snuggle closer, "But I must say, I don't find this secret very satisfactory. It was pretty obvious, you know? And as you said yourself Turner knows as well. Don't you have another one for me?"

"You're hard man to please, Tom", Harry pouted, "But I'll tell you something else or better yet I'll show you."

He turned on his back, staring at the dark ceiling for a moment before closing his eyes and scrunching up his face in concentration. Tom was too fascinated by that adorable display that at first he didn't noticed the way Harry's right hand started to glow as if it was filled by some gold-glittering substance and was shocked when aforementioned hand suddenly shot up and what looked to be stars appeared on the ceiling merrily twinkling down at them.

"How did you do that?", he asked astonished, alternately staring at his husband and the stars.

"Wandless magic", Harry shrugged as best as you can lying on a bed, "I'm sure you can do that, too, so why are you so surprised?"

"I can't do that", Tom gave back slightly miffed- he hated it when someone was better than him, even though he was also proud of his husband in this case, "That's why I have a wand."

"Don't be so modest", Harry chastised, "You just never had the need to use this ability, I'm sure you're able to do it, too. Try it, try something simple. Like Lumos."

Voldemort scowled displeasedly at being told what to do, but sat up and, staring unblinkingly, whispered the incantation.

"No", Harry tugged his arm after the third unsuccessful attempt, "You do it wrong. This is not like magic with a wand. You focus on the incantation, on the wand movement and on what you want, right? But that's not how it works. You have to focus on that you need it, how much you want it, how utterly important it is that it works in that very moment."

The red-eyed man sighed, not used to it that something didn't work the first time he tried, but obediently focussed on what Harry had told him to focus on, deciding that closing his eyes was a good point as any to start. His hand itched to make the according movement, but he held back. He didn't whisper the incantation either or pictured himself with a globe of light in his hand. But he wanted that light, he needed it. _Why_, this stupid and totally unwelcome voice in his head asked. Because I need it_. Very convincing, indeed._ Why the hell, was he so sarcastic and to himself, no less? He needed this light, because of... Harry. Harry would be disappointed if he didn't work this out and he wouldn't be disappointed with him, Tom, but with himself and that was something he couldn't accept. Harry was beautiful and wonderful and adorable and intelligent and powerful and special. He shouldn't be feeling any less than that. He opened his eyes when he heard Harry's whoop of joy and the following clapping of hands, staring in amazement at his hand that glowed in a faint yellow light before his attention was caught by the small body pressed against his.

"You did it!", Harry exclaimed happily and hugged him tightly, "I told you that you could do it."

He carefully closed his hand and the light diminished, leaving the room to be only illuminated by Harry's stars and Harry's strangely smouldering eyes.

"Thank you", he very slowly touched his lips to the other wizards, afraid Harry wouldn't want to be that intimate with him yet if ever, but the arms that wrapped around his neck, tangling in his black hair and the little appreciative mewl was enough to encourage him and the kiss turned more passionate.

"You're welcome", Harry gasped as his lips were eventually freed again, "So you like my secret?"

"I absolutely adore it", he returned over-enthusiastically, making Harry wonder whether he was being honest or not, "And I absolutely adore you, too!", Harry ducked his head embarrassedly, but a finger under his chin forced him to look up, "I really love you, Harry."

"How can you say that?", Harry asked sadly the insults and explanations of the Dursleys' still ringing in his ears: he was a freak, not even worth the air he was breathing. He was ugly, he was soiled, he was useless. No-one would ever love him.

"Because it's true and some day you will believe me", he promised, kissing him once again though more chastely this time.

Harry only shook his head a little as if to say that he was being unrealistic and reached for Lami, who had been abandoned during the earlier seizure and put him between the two, wrapping his arms around the fluffy toy and closing his eyes, his legs instinctively folded neatly against his chest and his teddy-bear, making himself as small as possible.

The red-eyed Dark Lord (thinking about it, he had been destined to be a Dark Lord, eyes like his were just perfectly intimidating) sighed barely audible and carefully wrapped Harry up in his arms, rearranging the blankets around the delicate form so that he was safely tucked in under the blankets and closed his eyes as well after kissing Harry's forehead tenderly and whispering a soft good-night.

"Please, forgive me, Harry", he whispered as a last thought and was surprised to feel Harry cuddling closer to him and to hear the low assurance: "I have forgiven you, Tom. Now go to sleep."

Harry experimentally wriggled as he felt the body wrapped around his going slack. The arms tightened. This was so not good! He had shut out everything, everyone, even himself during the last week. It didn't need a genius to figure out that nightmares would haunt him that night. Nightmares of his own past, most likely. And he couldn't allow Tom to find out. And find out he would should he not manage to free himself from his embrace. He wriggled once more, letting the strong arms slide up his shoulders until they lay over his throat. It would be decidedly inconvenient if their hold tightened now... but luckily that didn't happen and Harry hurried to slip out from under there.

Now, what to do? He could of course not sleep at all, but that wouldn't be good for the baby and though Tom had assured him that everything was fine with the baby, he didn't want to risk anything. Then of course he could always go to Rudolphus and Rabastan, but his leg hurt rather badly and he didn't want to worry Tom should he wake up and find him missing.

He still felt bad about what he had done to all of them. That left him with the sole option to put up silencing spells, hope Tom didn't wake up to find him silently screaming and that it wouldn't be to bad.

_"Snuffles", his own broken voice sobbed, "I need you."_

_The only reply was a loud thump against the cupboard door and his uncle's angry voice: "Shut up, freak, or I'll come back in. Understood?"_

_Harry nodded and whispered a quiet "Yes, Sir", but his throat was so raw from when Vernon had "taught" him how to give him a blow-job. As he said Harry was totally inept in everything and he would make him learn something useful, with which he could earn his living in their house._

_"Still too proud to answer me, boy", the door was wrenched open, "I'll teach you where you belong."_

_He grabbed Harry by the shoulder and jerked him out of the cupboard since he himself was too big to fit in it, knocking him to the floor. The thirteen-year old whimpered in pain as one of his earlier wounds began bleeding again. There were still little shards of glass on the floor and in his back from when Uncle Vernon had used his half empty vodka bottle to beat his nephew unconscious earlier. The fat man's trousers were still unzipped from what had happened an hour or so ago. _

_He seemed to be so drunk that he hadn't been able to rearrange his clothes, though he had certainly found the time to empty a second bottle of some undefined alcoholic beverage. His belt had been abandoned in the kitchen if Harry remembered correctly, where he had had his back whipped, but it could have been the bathroom just as well. All he really remembered besides the pain were white tiles under his hands, freckled with his blood. Now the little shards also dug in his chest and abdomen._

_"You lost me a job, freak", Vernon Dursley slurred for about the twentieth time, "You haven't paid nearly enough... I'll show you who's the boss."_

_He rammed into his nephew without pre-warning, grinding his podgy stomach into the pale and bleeding backside of Harry. The boy, small for his age and way too thin, bit his lip so as not to let out a scream or even one more whimper. _

_"So tight", Vernon grunted, "That's my boy-toy", as if for emphasis he thrust in even harder, and it seemed to Harry like he managed to go deeper with every thrust, "Such a fine slut, you are. Now where is your criminal godfather? Have you been lying to us again, my little toy? Answer me!"_

_"No, Sir", Harry cried out as the shards dug even deeper into his chest._

_"That's what you think, lovely little slut", he grunted heavier as his thrust became more erratic, "That he _loves_ you. But let me tell you something", he threw his whole enormous weight onto his back, making it hard to breath, and whispered in his ear, "You are nothing but a freak and if it weren't for your tight little hole and your mouth no-one would ever love you. Maybe you should give him what he wants, freak, like you so nicely offered to me", he punctuated each word with a new thrust and a throaty, twisted laugh escaped him at his own joke, "That's all you are to him and everyone else: an asshole and a sucking mouth. Get used to it, toy-boy."_

_He finally climaxed and Harry couldn't help but shudder at the notion of his semen coating his insides. His uncle had passed out on top of him. He was far too weak to push him of and his uncle was far too heavy, but he managed to brush away the tears that had gathered in his eyes with one hand. _

_Sirius wasn't like that, he reassured himself. Sirius was perhaps the only one who wasn't like that. He loved him. He loved him. Sirius was his family! _

_Vernon needed over half an hour to recover and regain consciousness, probably due to the considerable amount of alcohol he had consumed, and when he did he thought that since he was already inside his nephew a second go would be in order. Harry slipped in and out consciousness as his uncle repeatedly banged his head onto the glass-covered floor in the throes of pleasure and he was only relieved that he didn't have to listen to Uncle Vernon's ramblings, though one sentence got stuck: "I love you", he had said and then laughed like a maniac, knocking Harry's head onto the floor once more._

Harry woke with a silent scream. _No!_ Shivering and with tears streaming down his face, he curled up and sobbed and pleaded and cursed for all this to be over. It couldn't happen again. He couldn't allow Tom to let him use him. He couldn't live his life as a hole and a mouth. He just couldn't! Why did Tom have to say something like that, why was he hurting him? Those three words meant pain, nothing more, pain and humiliation.

He had heard the other boy's in Gryffindor tower talk about them, too. They said it was a rather simple way to get someone to spread their legs for them at least if you were convincing. Tom couldn't possibly love him! He didn't feel anything from Tom that was like what he felt from Sirius or Remus. Or had he? His mind seemed so fussy as if Aunt Petunia's Hoover had sucked up everything that wasn't attached firmly and spit it out somewhere he would never have looked for it.

But Blaise and Draco, they had said that they loved him and that hadn't been a lie and so far they hadn't tried to rape him. And hadn't Draco told him that Tom loved him? Draco wouldn't lie to him, would he? But Dark Lords were not supposed to love their enemies or even their husbands... This was so bloody confusing. Why did Tom have to drop something like this on his head? Everything had been fine, why did he have to ruin everything?

He looked over to the raven-haired wizard, sighing softly and brushing away the last of his tears, and ever so slowly crawled back into his arms. Whatever Tom or anyone else had said, Harry was sure that his feelings were nowhere near of his uncle's so-called emotions and somewhere deep in his heart, in a dark, dusted corner, with locks warding it and traps all around, he knew that it was somehow important that Tom did indeed love him, for he himself couldn't cope with an unrequited love. And so for the first time he allowed another male to comfort him after his nightmares and himself to relax enough to fall asleep in Tom's arms once again, after he had taken down the silencing spells.

* * *

**You know some time ago I had asked your opinion what story I should write next, do you remember? Well, I thought about it some more and since I'm still against writing another Tom/Harry story directly after this one I thought about writing a Lucius/Harry story and I'm happy to say that it's not as bad as I thought. But now I have another problem: I have thought about a plot and wonder over wonder I came up with something that at least resembles a plot, but in this plot it kind of turned into a Lucius/Harry/Draco pairing and now I want to know if you would kill me if I did that?**

**So just tell me if you'd rather I continue thinking about a plot that only contains Lucius/Harry or if you're okay with a threesome...**

**Oh, yes, about this story here, why don't you comment on it while you are voting?**


	42. Cooking

**Disclaimer: For the 41rst time (I forgot it once): I don't own the characters!**

**Author's Note: Food cravings! Yay! A very, very big thank you goeas to KaylaisEvenstar and a just as big thank you goes to MaMoray, thanks for your suggestions! Also I do realise that Harry might act a bit weird and if my explanations don't seem plausible to you, tell me and I can try to give you more explanations...

* * *

**

**42. COOKING**

It was half past ten already when Tom woke in the next morning and considering that he was usually an early riser and liked to get a head start on everyone else by getting up early or at least wake at precisely the time he had set the evening before, this was slightly unusual. But on the other hand, he hadn't set a time last night or rather earlier that morning and he really couldn't care less when he found a peacefully sleeping Harry in his arms. He smiled down lovingly at the unruly mop of raven locks and pressed a kiss to his forehead, chuckling softly as Harry murmured something unintelligible and buried his face in Lami's white fur.

Tom carefully disentangled himself from the blankets and went to the bathroom to take a shower after he had tucked Harry in once more. He had just finished, when insistent knocking reached his ears, and his hair still dripping wet, he went to let his visitors in.

"Where is Harry?", Draco and Blaise brushed past him even before he had opened the door completely.

"He's still sleeping, Mr. Malfoy", he informed them coldly and let Severus and Lucius enter before he closed the door again, "And it would be better if you remembered some manners or I could decide to not let you see him at all."

"I will do whatever the hell I please and until Harry has told me that you are forgiven and that he's absolutely fine again I want to hate you", Draco scowled at him, "Come on, Blaise, let's go see Harry."

The dark boy nodded and they both climbed the stairs to where Harry was still sleeping.

"I apologise for my son's behaviour, Tom", Lucius inclined his head lightly, "I doubt any of us slept very much during the last night."

Tom waved his excuse away: "At least your son has character, Lucius. Coffee, anyone?"

The two wizards nodded and took a seat on the sofa while Tom ordered some coffee from one of the eager house-elves, who also brought some tea and scones.

"He looks fine, don't you think?", Blaise said nodding at Harry's head the only part visible over the blankets.

Draco hummed and crouched down next to the bed, brushing some strands out of his face, while Blaise crawled on the bed behind the small boy: "Should we wake him?"

"I think we should let him sleep- he looks tired", Blaise observed.

"Then why don't you shut up?", Harry grumbled, "And stop breathing on my neck!"

"Harry, you're okay there, aren't you?", Blaise asked and hugged him from behind, "We were really worried about you."

Harry's eyes fluttered open and he began to cry, looking at them pleadingly: "I'm sorry. Please, forgive me, I didn't mean to worry you, but it hurt so much... please..."

"Hush, little hero, don't cry", Draco cradled the broken boy to his chest and started to rock him gently, "Blaise didn't mean it like that, don't cry anymore. We're so glad you're back again. We missed you so much, didn't we, Blaise?"

"Everyone missed you", the oldest boy reassured him, "Severus even started to take points from us. We're not angry, Harry, just so happy we have you back."

"I'm happy, too", Harry confessed, "I never want to be like that again."

"We'll make sure of that, Harry", Draco promised and pulled him back onto the bed, "So, did you or did you not forgive your husband?"

"I did", Harry blushed, "He explained it to me and..."

"You can not always forgive him", Blaise commented, "If you ask me, he went too far with this."

"And what am I supposed to do then?", Harry asked back, "We're married and there's no way for me out of this, even if I wanted to. I don't have the strength to hate him for the rest of my life, Blaise."

"I'm just saying that you shouldn't let him get away this easily", Blaise gave back, "Or he'll do something like that again soon."

"That's why I have you", Harry mumbled, "You'll protect me, won't you?"

"Of course, Harry", they assured him at once and wrapped him in another group hug, "Not even a Dark Lord can get past us."

"He said something else", Harry muttered after awhile and the two Slytherins looked up expectantly, "He said that he loved me."

"I knew it", Draco punched the air and performed a small (and very dignified) victory dance before he looked back down to find Harry crying, "You don't seem happy about this."

Harry sniffed piteously: "I don't want him to love me. I don't want him to tell me that he does. Why is he doing this to me? He's just like my uncle..."

"Shh, Harry", the two boys were shocked when they realised how much damage that Muggle had really done to him and they didn't really know what to say to his exclamation.

"Harry", Draco gently cupped his face and made him look up, "He's not like your uncle. He really loves you and not just because of your body. He's a git sometimes, but he cares about you and he didn't say it to hurt you. Why are you so upset about it?"

"Because... Because I don't believe him. How could he possibly love me? I'm just a scrawny, ugly freak with too much luck, if you want to call it that", Harry sobbed, "He doesn't love me, he just wants me to spread my legs for him..."

"No, Harry, listen to us", Blaise took one of his shaking hands in his, "You didn't believe us either when we told you, but we didn't lie and neither would the Dark Lord. There're a lot of reasons why all of us love you and we don't think that you're ugly or a freak. You're Harry. Our Harry. And though that isn't really positive, he doesn't need you to spread your legs for him anymore because there's the contract."

"But I never felt anything like love from him", Harry argued, "And you don't decide something like that from one moment to the next, right?"

"Did you feel anything from us before we told you, Harry?", Draco asked curiously and Harry shook his head and blushed, "Maybe you did feel something, but didn't believe it could be true and maybe that's the same with the Dark Lord now. But, Harry, I don't need to be an empath to know that he cares a lot about you and that he was very sad during the last week. If he only wanted your body, it wouldn't matter how you behaved otherwise. But he did care. And I believe him when he says he loves you."

"Do I have to believe him?", Harry sniffed, looking at them with tear-clouded emerald eyes.

"No, you can let him prove it all you want", Blaise laughed, "Maybe that'll teach him not to take everything for granted."

"Everything good now?", Draco asked and Harry smiled as an answer, "Well, then I still have to say something. Are you listening? Good: I...", he paused for dramatic effect, "Told you so."

Harry stared at him wide-eyed before he burst out laughing, clinging to Draco's shirt in a futile attempt to steady himself. The blond looked smug at this new development and Blaise just rolled his eyes at the younger boys.

"Let's go down, shall we?", Blaise suggested, "I'm not sure I can stand to be only in your presence without losing brain cells..."

"Did he just insult us?", Draco asked incredulously in Harry's direction, "Did he just insinuate that he doesn't find our company stimulating enough?"

"It did almost sound like that, Draco", Harry sighed sadly, "Maybe he thinks we're not good enough for him..."

Draco theatrically pressed his hands to his chest as if he was lethally wounded: "This really hurts and from the man we considered a brother, no less. I'm not sure I will survive this backstabbingness. Sir Harry, please prepare to take down my last words...", he let his voice trail off weakly and Harry began to shake his limp form all the while wailing "Sir Draco, not you, too, don't leave me behind...", but Draco gave no further sign that he was living (except of course breathing and inconspicuously grabbing a pillow near-by).

"Oh, no", Harry exclaimed after a while, "Sir Draco has passed away. I will have to avenge him", stating this, he turned his eyes on Blaise, who was uninvolvedly looking at the portrait of him and Tom by the French painter, "Engarde, backstabbing Sir Blaise, I will avenge my dastardly killed brother, the honourable Sir Draco."

"Honestly, could you act your age for once?", Blaise asked indifferently, "You two are so childish."

"And you are old, Sir Blaise", Harry declared, "I wonder should I sent for my sword or call the old people's home?"

Blaise finally turned around, the moment Harry had awaited impatiently, and was hit with one of the black silk pillows square in the face, immediately followed by a second pillow.

"Enough, you imp, you will pay the price for your insolence", with that Blaise, too, attacked with the two pillow-like projectiles and Harry had to duck behind the bed to avoid being hit by them and they flew far over his head and landed several metres away from him.

The two dark-haired boys made a dash for their arms, however, as Blaise hastened past the bed Draco, who decided that being dead was utterly boring, hit him over the head with the last two pillows. The bed, adding to his height, made this a very good position for the blond, but Blaise managed to wrestle one of the pillows out of his grasp just as Harry re-emerge with the two pillows, which had started this fight and began to bang them into his shoulder since his head was already occupied with Draco's pillow. Blaise obviously deciding that Harry was the easier opponent, spun around and wrapping his arms around Harry's waist, let himself fall back onto the bed, Harry on top of him, using him as a human shield against Draco's blows, who was so in his element that he didn't even consider stopping. Suffice to say Harry didn't take kindly to be attacked by his brother in arms and soon after it was no longer Draco and Harry against Blaise, but everyone against everyone.

"Do you think we should go up and find out what they're doing that requires so much noise?", Lucius smirked, "Or do you think it's already too late to save your furniture?"

"I have you know that we didn't destroy any furniture, Dad", Draco declared snottily as he descended the stairs, a worried-looking Harry and a feather-covered Blaise (he had had the misfortune to have one of the pillows explode on him) following behind, "Lord Voldemort", he bowed a little, "Harry assured me that you were indeed forgiven, so I decided, I didn't really hate you anymore, though I can't say that I like you."

"The feeling is quite mutual, Mr. Malfoy", Tom scoffed before he turned to Harry, "How are you feeling, Harry?"

"I'm fine", Harry slipped past the blond, "And I'm sorry, I worried you so much. Please forgive me. Please, Severus?"

"Forty points from Gryffindor", the Potion's Master smirked at Harry's shocked expression, "Well, I had to make good for the points your behaviour in the last week lost Slytherin. Come here, brat, can't have you think I'm angry", he opened his arms for the small boy, who ran into them and hugged him tightly, "If you do that again, I will personally make you my test person until you return to normal. And you will return to normal, Mr. Potter, don't think you'll be able to take the easy way out and die on me. Is that clear?"

"Crystal", Harry sniffed and Severus ruffled his hair affectionately: "And don't let anyone poison you again, Harry, really, one would think, you'd learned some potion-detection spells by now..."

"I didn't think anyone would poison me, Severus", Harry ducked his head, "I'll be more careful in the future. I promise. Don't be angry with me."

"I'm not, Harry", Severus sighed, "Just worried and a bit tired."

"And your hair is greasy again", Harry observed calmly, "Do you really like it that way?"

"I'll wash my hair when I'm back in my rooms, if it makes you happy", Severus relented.

"You should do it if it makes you happy", Harry argued, "I couldn't care less if your hair is greasy or not, but I want you to like yourself. You would be so handsome if you took better care of yourself..."

"I'm not Black, Harry", Severus growled, "I neither have the time nor the ambition to spent three hours in front of the mirror just to fix my hair."

"No, you're Severus and just because Sirius is rather proud about his looks doesn't mean you can't be good-looking yourself", Harry retorted sharply, "This is not some competition about who's better in doing exactly the opposite of what the other does because, Severus, neither of you could beat the other in this kind of game. So either you wash your hair or you don't, but don't make Sirius responsible for your decision."

"The last time you're persuasiveness was far more pleasant", Severus commented, "But I guess you're right- small wonders are said to happen- and I will wash my hair because it'll make feel **me** feel so much better."

"Don't mock me", Harry swatted his arm lightly, "Go wash your hair, Severus!", he pushed the tall black-clothed man towards the bathroom as good as he was able to.

The thin and currently still greasy haired Professor grumblingly surrendered to his fate and disappeared in the bathroom.

"Don't I get a hug, too?", Lucius asked haughtily, "Not to be arrogant or anything, but I am a Malfoy and I did come all the way here just to look after a certain green-eyed someone."

Harry threw his arms around the blond's neck immediately and slipped sideways into his lap: "Thank you for coming again", he whispered and the blond chuckled, "I owe you so much. I'm sorry."

"This hug is all the thanks I want", Lucius answered gently, "Cissa says hello, too, and if you ever have question about being pregnant she would be happy to be of help. Now, stop crying! No-one is angry with you and you were not at fault for what happened. Can you believe me?"

"I believe you almost everything", Harry evaded and kissed the blond's cheek.

"Here, take some coffee", Lucius offered his own cup, "It's how you like it: lots of milk and no sugar."

"No", Harry shied away with a repulsed look on his face, "I can't, the thought alone makes me nauseous."

"Do you want your potion, Harry?", Tom asked gently and hugged him from behind, but Harry shook his head: "I don't think, I could get anything down my throat right now. I'm sorry."

"That's fine, little one", Harry received a kiss to his forehead, "But you really have to eat something, you said yourself that you threw up everything last night. What can I do to make you eat, hm?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders: "I don't want to eat, Tom. I'll throw up everything afterwards..."

"You don't have to eat much, Harry", Tom unconsciously started to rub his abdomen, "And you can have anything you want. Would you like to go down to the kitchens perhaps? Or we could go out to eat."

"No, Tom", Harry pressed out annoyedly, "I appreciate the effort, but I don't want to eat anything."

"Harry, please", Tom kneeled down in front of him and pulled him closer, his head resting against Harry stomach/I'm so worried about you, kitten, please. I don't want to force you, but I don't want to lose you, either... Would you eat something if I cooked for you?/

He looked up hopefully when he felt caressing fingers in his hair and met smiling green eyes/You would really do that for me?/

/I would do everything for you, lovely. So, will you accept my offer?/, Tom tenderly caressed Harry's pale face as he got up.

"Yes", Harry exclaimed happily and flung his arms around his neck.

"And you'll at least try to eat something, promise?", Tom asked and as Harry nodded, he gently put him back on his feet, "Well, then, I'll be in the kitchen. Any wishes?"

"Pancakes", Harry said after a bit of hesitation and Tom nodded: "Okay. Why don't you get dressed, little one?"

"Would it bother you if I stayed in my pyjamas?", Harry asked unsurely.

"Not at all", he kissed him again, "But take it easy, okay? And if you need anything, call and I'll be there in a second", with that said he disappeared in the small kitchenette closing the door behind him.

"What did you talk about?", Blaise asked curiously, "And what is he doing?"

"Tom is going to cook for me", Harry grinned broadly, only seeming more happy as he saw the incredulous looks he was getting.

"Well, I won't miss out on all the fun", Lucius declared and slipped into the kitchen as well.

"Do you really think he can cook?", Draco asked disbelievingly.

"I'm sure that Tom can do anything he really wants to", Harry gave back, "So yes, I think he can cook."

"Who can cook?", Severus had re-emerged from the bathroom, his hair now slightly fluffy from the drying spell, but greaseless and glossy, and sat down on the sofa next to Draco.

"The Dark Lord, obviously", Blaise answered, "He offered to cook for Harry to make him eat something."

"And why were you refusing to eat to begin with?", Severus scowled at the tight little ball of Harry on one of the beanbags.

Harry was saved from an answer by a light tapping sound on the door and the small boy, expecting it to be either Neville and Luna or the Lestrange brothers opened eagerly. However, he was sorely disappointed as his eyes instead found the tips of merrily tapping high-heeled buckled boots under the hem of just as merrily swinging purple and yellow striped robes.

"Oh, Harry, my dear boy", Harry backed away instinctively as his due to the pregnancy oversensitive nose caught the sweet, sweaty old man's smell of the Headmaster, "I was wondering when I would have the pleasure of speaking with you again. I hope I didn't wake you my dear boy?"

"Oh, not at all, Professor Dumbledore", Harry replied with a forced smile, "Do come in, Sir."

Considering that the Headmaster had already passed Harry and was serving himself with tea and lots of sugar, this request was superfluous, really.

"Thank you, Harry", the Headmaster said graciously, "Ah, nothing quite like a nice lemon tea. Except of course lemon drops themselves. Harry?", he offered some of the sweets in a small box, but the small boy declined.

"No, thank you, Sir", Harry took a seat one of the beanbags, "What brings you here, Headmaster. Is there anything I can help you with? Or should I perhaps call my husband?"

"You're presence alone is more than enough for an old man like me", Dumbledore patted his knee in a grandfatherly fashion and Harry had to strain not to flinch away, "And does a concerned old man need a reason to visit one of his charges?"

"No, Professor", Harry laughed as it seemed happily, "An old man doesn't need a reason, an Albus Dumbledore, however, doesn't need one, but you can be sure that he has one anyway."

Dumbledore chuckled as well: "You know me too well, my dear child. I was indeed wondering if the rumours were true that you're full of life again. I was quite a bit worried about you, Harry."

"Oh, I was just experimenting", Harry laughed again as if highly amused, "It was quite entertaining to see Voldemort squirm."

"Forgive me, my boy", the wizened old man furrowed his brow, "But that sounds so little like you, though I'm glad, overcame your childish grudge against me."

"I just came to realise some things, Sir", Harry said deliberately, "I learned to see Voldemort as who he is. I can not go around fraternising with the enemy because despite the contract my allegiances and my views haven't changed."

"Very well, dear boy", baby-blue eyes were twinkling like mad, "Just keep the old saying in mind to keep your friends close..."

"...But you enemies closer", the green-eyed boy finished thoughtfully, "I will think about it."

"You do that, child", Dumbledore nodded for emphasis, "Apropos, friends there's seems to be a slight drift between and Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley. I took the liberty of speaking with them and they're willing to forgive and forget everything that may have passed for the sake of your friendship..."

"That is great, thank you", Harry smiled, "I missed them both a lot."

Dumbledore once again patted his knee before he slurped his tea and continued: "I thought so, Harry. Now I hope you can help me in the matter of a problem I have been experiencing lately. You wouldn't know who was responsible for transfiguring me into a garden gnome, would you, my dear boy?"

"A garden gnome...?", Harry asked, looking for all the world truly confused, "I'm sorry, Professor, but is this perhaps a metaphor for something? You don't look like a garden gnome to me. The ones I saw at Ron's were rather small and ugly and had vicious teeth. Could you perhaps explain to me what you meant?"

"Oh no, Harry", Dumbledore looked mildly disappointed, but quickly pulled himself together again, "The spell wore off after a while, but I must say it was highly uncomfortable and I couldn't access my lemon drops", he winked at Harry, "I rather think it was your husband, but I have no prove other than that it was a highly complex spell and I don't think anyone within reach could have managed it- except you perhaps, but you haven't covered full body transfigurations, yet, have you?"

"No, no, Professor", Harry murmured and massaged his temples, "And for the hell...- sorry, Professor- I can't seem to remember this particular incident. Do you think Voldemort used Obliviate on me?", he let just the right amount of panic shine through his voice to make it convincing, "How much else did he make me forget? Merlin..."

"Calm down, Harry", Dumbledore again patted his knee, this time resting his hand longer on it than before, "You would undoubtedly know if he used it more often on you. Though, in this case I can't eliminate any possibility of it", Harry sighed relievedly, more because Dumbledore removed his hand.

"If that was all, maybe you should go then", Harry seemed depressed, "Voldemort is just in the room next door and..."

"I understand, my boy", Dumbledore got up and rearranged his purple-spotted Wizarding hat, "Just one more question. Have you heard of Bellatrix Lestrange's death?"

"She's dead", Harry grinned broadly, "Did the Aurors get her?"

"No, I'm afraid your husband lost his temper yesterday", the headmaster walked to the door, "And killed her in a fit of rage."

"But... Then he broke the contract", Harry's grin broadened, "We can ship him of to Azkaban."

"I'm afraid, it isn't that easy, my boy", Dumbledore opened the door, "As one of his Death Eaters he had every right to do with her whatever he pleased. Now, if it had been Severus...", Harry was disgusted at how hopeful the old wizard's voice suddenly sounded, but sighed displeasedly: "Well, then thanks for your visit, Sir."

"The pleasure was all mine, Harry", Dumbledore patted his shoulder, "You'll see, my dear boy, sooner or later we'll get him."

With that he disappeared and Harry closed the door before slipping to the floor and starting to tremble violently. Severus, Blaise and Draco reappeared from where they had hid near the stairs as Dumbledore had entered, at the same time as Lucius and Tom slid open the door to the kitchenette where they had listen in on the conversation.

"Harry?", the later crouched down near the shivering boy, noting the tears that slid down his face.

"I'm sorry, Tom", Harry sobbed, clinging to his robes, "I didn't mean anything of what I said. I'm sorry."

"I know that, precious", Tom tenderly pulled him into his lap, "You did wonderful play acting and I'm so proud of you for being loyal to me. It's okay now, hush, it's okay."

"I don't want you to go to Azkaban", Harry sniffed, "And I don't want Severus to die."

"Neither will happen", Tom began to rock him slightly, "I'll make sure of that. Calm down, Harry, you're safe, nothing will happen to you while you're with me. I promise."

"And I don't like to see you unhappy", the black-haired boy continued, "And I don't want Ron and Hermione to forgive me."

"That's good, kitten", the Dark Lord wiped away the tears with his thump, "I'm sure Draco and Blaise would be disappointed if you thought there was something you needed to be forgiven for."

"And I really couldn't care less that Bellatrix is dead", Harry looked up at him unsurely, "But you promised you wouldn't kill anyone."

"I know, Harry", Tom muttered, "And for breaking that promise I'm sorry, but she had hurt you badly and I was on edge the whole week because I thought I had lost you and I lost my temper. I know, that isn't a good enough excuse, but it's the only one I have to offer."

"It's okay", Harry sighed, "But not because it's in any way justifiable or okay to kill someone, but because I refuse to let her rule even a small part of my life, Tom."

"Thank you", he slowly picked him up and handed him to Severus, who stood behind him, "And now, I have to continue cooking or your food will be all burnt."

Lucius and Tom once again disappeared in the kitchen, while the Potion's Master slowly sat down on the sofa with Harry in his lap.

"Harry, why did you do it?", Blaise asked after a prolonged silence, "You opposed Dumbledore before. Why the sudden shift of attitude?"

"I was so angry with him when I thought Sirius had died", Harry mumbled, "And then this whole contract-thing, I just couldn't act civil. With what I did now he thinks it was just a bit of alienation. He believes I'm still his Golden Boy after all, his little weapon and as long as he thinks I'm on his side, the Gryffindors are on my side. And I really can't deal with all those hateful glances thrown my way and all the bad feelings I receive. I can't risk anyone to attack me, I don't want this child to be hurt", he protectively wrapped his arms around his stomach, "And it's a lot easier to answer his question when he thinks I'm just naiv and forgetful."

"How very Slytherin of you, Harry", Severus chuckled, "I do believe you just earned yourself five points."

"Why, thank you, Severus", Harry mocked, "If you're not careful Slytherin will lose the lead."

"Not as long as I have two Weasleys in my classes. I swear the whole family is totally incapable when it comes to potions- not that they are very skilful in other departments."

"Fred, George and Bill are good in potions", Harry corrected him gently, "Not brilliant, but in comparison to you everyone is a dead loss."

"How flattering", Severus deadpanned, but his long fingers combing gently through Harry's black locks told a different story.

"So, Draco, got any owls this last week?", Harry asked innocently as he played with Severus' hands.

"My mum wrote", Draco answered slowly, not really sure what Harry wanted to hear, "She says hello, by the way, and that salt crackers helped her with the morning sickness."

"Blaise, is he really that oblivious?", Harry asked the Italian boy, who shrugged helplessly: "Dunno, Harry, maybe he hit his head on something hard."

"What are you talking about?", the blond asked indignantly, "Harry asked if I got any owls, I answered. What is there to be oblivious about?"

"Okay, Draco", Harry sighed, "Let's play a little game. What were you doing one week ago?"

"I was in Hogsmead", Draco's scowl deepened, "But..."

"What did I promise you before you went there?"

"A nice surprise", the blond growled, "I'm still angry with you for making me walk back here as a Weasley."

"Draco", the green-eyed boy groaned in exasperation, "I already told you that that wasn't my surprise. My surprise however did have red hair. Any bells ringing?"

"Blaise?", Draco suggested, "What has he got to do with anything. I admit, it would have been good blackmail material if there wasn't the little fact that I had red hair, too."

"Not Blaise", Harry pressed out, "If you're doing this on purpose I'll bow deeply to you."

"I'm not doing anything", Draco scoffed, "But I don't grasp what you're getting at."

"Charlie", Harry said defeatedly, "Charlie was your surprise and I was asking if you got any owls from him."

"But...", a look of realisation crossed Draco's face, "He is the one you want to set me up with."

"Yes", both black-haired boys exclaimed and Severus snorted.

"Oh", Draco shrugged, "Okay then. Could have been worse", Harry stared at him with his best puppy-dog-eyes (and, damn were they good!) until Draco condescended to elaborate a little: "Fine, we talked, he was funny and interesting. He promised to write once he had found an apartment since he seemingly got a job offer from one of the research centres, which are trying to combine certain dragon genes to get more amicable ones in order to bring them back to England. So either he hasn't found something suitable yet or he decided that he doesn't want to contact me."

"If he said he would, he will", Harry assured him, "But what about you? Do **you** like him?"

"Well, I said he was kind of nice and rather good-looking after you got used to all that red hair", Draco shrugged again- no-one had ever expected him to describe his feeling towards someone; to be honest it had always been him who did the pursuing and why would he pursue someone if he didn't like them?, "And his work with the dragons sounds pretty interesting, too. So, yes, I think I like him."

"Good", Harry smiled at him, "Because he likes you, too."

"How do you know?", Draco asked suspiciously, but Harry pretended not to hear him and snuggled deeper into the Potion's Master, closing his eyes, "No manners, Potter, but what can you expect from a Gryffindor?"

"Not much", Harry mumbled, "Just that they are stubborn."

"And that they make you happy if you want to or not", Severus added, glaring down at the small boy, "Won't you open the door, Harry?"

"Do I have to?", Harry whined, "It could be Dumbledore again."

"And what if it's one of your friends?", the black-haired professor reasoned and Harry stood up reluctantly.

This time, however, he needn't be so hesitant because in front of the door stood none other than Rudolphus, Rabastan and Madam Pomfrey, who had come to check on Harry. The witch, since no-one had bothered to inform her of Harry's mental recovery, was so shocked as she saw his smiling, apologetic face that she had to swallow hard before starting on a rant about keeping her in the dark about something so important, then about how building up too many shields could hurt the baby, then about being hurt in the middle of the Great Hall, then about not coming to the infirmary as soon as he blinked open one eye, then about stupid, inconsiderate, domineering Dark Lords who had yet to realise that they were not alone on the planet, then about stupid, naiv, malnourished boy-heroes who thought collecting injuries was a suitable free-time activity, then about... Well, Harry, stopped listening at about that time, but that didn't discourage her even slightly.

After she had finished she resolutely ushered Harry up to the bedroom, where she checked his vitals and that of the baby, removed some bandages and applied new salve on the pretty deep slash across his chest, before declaring that he should use more of his magic, rest and eat a proper meal. Then she stalked back to the infirmary, grumbling about the ungratefulness of the student and teacher body to her services.

In the kitchen at the same time, Lucius and Tom were cooking, though Lucius confined himself to casually leaning against the counter and summoning things from the fridge or ordering a house-elf to fetch it for him, before handing it to the Dark Lord. No, Lucius wasn't really interested in cooking, although of course if he had bothered to try, it would have been absolutely delicious.

"I always thought that pregnants were supposed to have all sorts of food cravings", Tom said while he chopped some bananas for his fruit salad, "And instead Harry would eat even less then normal, if he wasn't so worried about the baby."

"Narcissa always ate apples", Lucius remembered, "Apples and black forest cake. But her **other cravings** were far more interesting..."

"Harry would rather eat everything the house-elves would bring him than to come to me with **those cravings**", Tom murmured displeasedly, "I just don't know what I'm doing wrong, Lucius! I do pretty much everything he asks of me and still he looks at me as if I killed his puppy."

"Well,...", Lucius answered, "You did kill his parents."

"I know, I did", the Dark Lord growled and dumped the bananas in the bowl, "But it doesn't seem like that's why he is like this. He never reacts like I expect him to react. Just now with Bellatrix, I thought he would chew my head off and then proceed to ignore me for weeks on end. And last night I told him that I loved him and he looked at me as if I was insulting him."

"You told him that you loved him?", Lucius repeated, "Well, do you?"

"Of course", Tom stared at him incredulously, "I wouldn't have said so otherwise."

"Tom, I know that, but does Harry?", the blond asked cautiously, "You just poisoned him, betrayed his trust and then you come and declare your love for him. Excuse me, but that doesn't sound very convincing."

"But he's an empath", Tom argued, "Shouldn't he feel something like this?"

"I honestly don't know", Lucius shrugged his shoulders while he summoned cinnamon from one of the shelves, "But Harry seems to have a problem with grasping the concept that anyone could as much as like him. Narcissa and I told him several times that we like him and that he's always welcome to ask us for help and yet he apologises for bothering us or for being a burden or for something else. Same with Severus and the Lestranges. Have you watched him today? How he apologised? That wasn't some act of courtesy, he really feared that we might hate him now."

Tom stayed silent for several minutes while he checked the temperature of the stove for his vanilla pudding: "He said he hates me."

"When?", Lucius asked, "After you told him of your love for him?"

"No, after I gave him that potion", the red-eyed man corrected, "As he panicked."

"Did you talk to him about it?"

"He said he hated me at that moment because I had forced him to feel so much, but he didn't even know that it was my fault then", Tom answered.

"I don't mean to interfere in your sex-life, Tom", Lucius carefully chose his words, "But I could imagine that it hurts Harry rather badly when you two have sex."

"Why do you say that?", Tom replied testily, studying the blond wizard closely.

"For one the size difference. You're rather tall while Harry is quite the opposite. He's a boy, Tom, a sixteen-year-old boy, who has the body of a third-year, he's thin, he's frail and he's an empath, whatever that exactly entails", Lucius answered calmly, "He obviously doesn't enjoy it, so I think he would be rather tense. He's pretty shy and I would say inexperienced, so he doesn't say anything if he doesn't like something. Then he's also stubborn, meaning he won't ask you to make it easier for him. All in all not a very good combination."

"And what am I supposed to do different, Lucius?", he stabbed the pudding displeasedly, "I'm doing everything I can to make it painless and easy for him and to find out what he does and doesn't like."

"What all homosexual couples should do different when one of the partners isn't comfortable with the role he's playing", Lucius smirked as he saw the shocked look that crossed Tom's face as he realised what he was implying.

"Tell them that dinner is ready and set the table, Lucius", the Dark Lord ordered sternly, not deigning to look at him and Lucius left the kitchenette, still smirking and with eight plates and the respective cutlery floating behind him.

Tom piled the pudding into a huge bowl, put the pancakes on a plate and fetched the fruit salad, ice cream, honey, apple sauce, maple syrup, chocolate sauce and yoghurt and followed his second-in-command back into the living room. Someone had enlarged the table and lengthened it's legs so that it now stood at a comfortable height for eating and Harry was setting the table while Rudolphus and Rabastan each levitated one of the black armchairs over. Tom put down the food and circling the small waist, pulled Harry into his lap as he sat down in one of the armchairs.

"Thank you", Harry smiled happily up at him and kissed his cheek, "And with perfect timing, too, I was just beginning to feel a bit hungry."

"Then eat", Tom leaned back in his chair, his right arm still loosely slung around Harry's waist and watched with satisfaction and a very mild form of disgust as Harry accepted the pancake Draco had put on his plate and began to pile first fruit salad, then ice cream, then chocolate sauce, then honey and maple syrup, apple sauce and finally pudding mixed with yoghurt on it.

Everyone had watched as Harry's plate grew fuller and fuller, Lucius with a knowing smirk on his face, and now watched in fascination as Harry somehow managed to form the pancake into a roll and cut off the first piece, putting it in his mouth and chewing with closed eyes.

"That's gross", he declared after swallowing the first bite.

"I could have told you that beforehand", Tom offered, which earned him a glare.

"Then why didn't you say something?", Harry said accusingly.

"Because I assumed you would have a reason to eat something like that", Tom tried to reason and warily eyed the fork in Harry's hand- Salazar, he hoped that Harry wasn't too angry with him for that comment!

"I thought you didn't like it", Draco asked in surprise after a tense moment, which Harry had used to unroll his pancake and to put some of the mushy substance in his mouth.

"I don't like the pancake", Harry growled, "It's really nasty."

"You don't like my pancakes?", Tom dared to inquire, "But you wanted pancakes. What's wrong with my pancakes?"

"I don't like them", Harry sniffed suddenly, "I'm sorry, I should like them. I shouldn't have said anything..."

"No, Harry", Tom wrapped him tighter in his arms, "You can hate my pancakes, just tell me what I did wrong."

"I don't know", Harry trembled as he grabbed onto Tom's hands, "Please..."

"Shh, who cares?", Tom kissed him gently, thinking to himself that he really needed to find out what everyone knew about Harry that caused him to behave in such a way- it couldn't all be hormones, right?, "Do you want other pancakes?"

"Dobby makes the best pancakes", Harry murmured, "But yours are good, too."

"They're obviously not", Tom argued before snapping his fingers causing Dobby to plop out of thin air, "Make Harry some of your pancakes...please", he added as he felt Harry's glare on him and his small husband happily snuggled into him.

The house-elf nodded vigorously, plopped away and re-appeared not two minutes later with a tower built of golden-brown pancakes. Harry's eyes lit up in joy and after shifting his stuffing to one of Dobby's pancakes, tucked in, obviously cherishing every single bite.

"I'm full", Harry rubbed his stomach contently as he leaned back into the embrace, "Thank you."

The black-haired man sighed, but began to eat something as well while the thin boy chatted happily with everyone around. He asked Draco and Blaise if they had completed the Transfiguration homework, yet. He told Severus that he had translated some of the potion's in Slytherin's book for him. He commented that the Quidditch season would start soon. He asked if Rudolphus was happy now that he had got rid of Bellatrix. He smiled as Lucius told him about Narcissa's pregnancy. And all the while his head was tucked safely under Tom's chin.

"What did Madam Pomfrey say earlier", Tom finally asked, "I heard her ranting."

"Oh, this and that", Harry shrugged, "She's angry with you because you didn't inform her of this and because you didn't bring me over in the morning."

"I didn't mean that, Harry", Tom clarified, "I wanted to know what she said about your health."

"The same as always", the small boy seemed disinterested, "She said I should use more of my magic."

"Well, then you will do the dishes", Tom ordered and Harry pouted.

"I think we'll take our leave", Lucius declared, "Thank you for the wonderful meal and the nice company", he gently enveloped the pouting boy in his arms, "And just remember, Harry, that you can reckon on us."

"Thanks for coming", Harry gave back, "And say hello to Narcissa for me, please?"

"I will hardly be able to avoid telling her everything about you and what you said", Lucius chuckled and stepped back.

"Remember to take your potions", Severus commanded as he also embraced the lithe form, "I didn't make them because I was so utterly bored."

Harry nodded. It continued in that way and after Harry had hugged everyone good-bye and the married couple was finally left alone, he started on the dishes, while Tom corrected some homework. And then when the last plate had found it's rightful place they sat down on the couch together and practised Tom's Wandless magic as Harry looked through his homework and the notes he had taken, changing some things and erasing others.

* * *

**Okay, the next chapter will contain Lemons so since I have to edit somethings it will be shorter than usual... Thought I'd give you a warning... As always you can ask me for the whole chapter and I'll send it to you (as soon as it is finished, that is...)**

**#inconspiciously points at button below# #waves huge flag with REVIEW written on it#**


	43. Lucky Man

**Disclaimer: Sadly enough, not mine #sniff#**

**Author's Note: Okay, guys, this chapter contains some GRAPHIC stuff so I hope you won't be offended by it. It's not quite sex so I'm not sure if you would call it LEMONS, but you have been warned nonetheless...**

**Is the script somehow different? It looks different to me, but you probably don't care...**

**To those of you who want the whole chapter, you can either go to ForeverFandom or give me your email adress (but you need to put spaces between the letters or it will be deleted- this happened to some of you who already did send me your email, so if you don't get the whole chapter, please send it to me again...). I also started to post on but right now I have only posted the first chapter and it will be a while till I have caught up with this account here...**

**I have the feeling I forgot something important... oh, well, start reading already...

* * *

****43. LUCKY MAN**

After a while he noticed Harry's eyes closing more often and his head dropping lower and since he had made quite a bit of progress during the last three and a half hours, he decided to get Harry into bed, after changing his bandages once more and tending to his wounds.

"Do you want to take a shower now so that I can renew your bandages afterwards?", he asked gently, mindful not to force Harry into anything he didn't want.

"Mhm, okay", Harry murmured and got up drowsily, swaying slightly as he walked into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

While Harry let the warm water relax his muscles and his rather sore back, Tom put his work away and then, gathering Harry's medicine and one of the Nourishment Potions, made his way upstairs. He didn't have to wait long until Harry had finished his shower and timidly sat next to him on the bed.

"Here, you can take the potion first", he handed the small bottle over.

"This tastes awful, do you know that?", the smaller wizard complained, "You would think a Nourishment Potion should taste appetising."

"Well, you can have lots of delicious food instead", Tom suggested, knowing full well that Harry wouldn't be thrilled with that idea.

"A bit of compassion would be appreciated very much, thank you", Harry scowled at him before he downed the green liquid.

"I'm sorry that was insensitive of me", Tom apologised, "I know that you eat as much as you can."

"Thank you."

"Can you take off your top so that I can take care of your wounds? That Slashing Hex she used was rather vicious", Harry hesitated, "I will not touch you in a sexual manner or where you don't want me to. You can say stop whenever you feel like it", he smiled encouragingly and Harry slowly started to unbuttoned his shirt: "It's not that", he commented, blushing, "I kind of like it when you touch me that way."

"Then what is it?", he uncapped the jar with the healing salve and began to carefully rub it into the abused skin, "Are you afraid that I won't stop?"

Harry nodded nervously: "Sorry."

"Don't be, little one", he cautiously checked the other bruises, but none was so grave that it needed to be worried about, "I know that you think you have no control over me at least in that department. And for that I apologise. Harry, you are my equal, you should have the same rights as I in this relationship and still you don't. You take everything I throw at you without comment, while you shouldn't. Even if I wanted, too, kitten, I couldn't hurt you, you're safe."

"No, I'm not, Tom", Harry argued bitterly, "If you really wanted to hurt me there would be thousands of ways- even without breaking the contract. You could bribe or blackmail some random guy to hurt me. I can guarantee that you would find someone all to eager to do so. Or you could lock me in the dungeons or a cage, just waiting for me to catch a cold or to starve to death. You could threaten to hurt one of my friends if I didn't do exactly what you want. The contract does nothing to protect me, Tom, because I don't want you to break it. I am far from safe."

"No, Harry, now you listen to me", Tom grabbed his shoulders forcefully, "This contract is just a piece of paper and whatever I may be able to do, doesn't matter because I will never hurt you intentionally. I would like to say that I will never hurt you. Full stop. But I've proven time and time again that I can't keep that promise. If you need a contract to tell you that, so be it. I will sign anything you want if it makes you happy and comfortable in my presence. I love you, Harry, and you can demand anything you want from me and I will do my best to get it for you."

"Please, don't say that", Harry pleaded, "I know that you think you do, but I can't believe you and in all honesty I don't want to believe you, either. If you really do, then show it to me, prove it, but don't tell me that you love me when you can't make it believable."

"If that is what you want, Harry", he agreed calmly, helping the pale boy back into his pyjamas, "Though actually that wasn't what I had planned to talk about", he lifted the blanket invitingly and Harry slipped under it, "I made this talk about us being equals because Lucius suggested something and I want you to know why I won't heed his advice."

"Okay", Harry said in a small voice and bunched up one of the pillows before he put it his head on it, "What did he suggest?"

"He suggested that we switch roles", Harry just looked at him in confusion, "That means that I bottom."

"That would be weird", Harry said after he had got control of his embarrassment.

"Yes", he nodded, urging himself to continue, "But that isn't the reason why I refuse to do it."

Harry looked at him inquiringly with a touch of worry in his voice as he crawled closer to him and rested his head on his chest.

"When I was fifteen I realised that I was gay", he said softly, putting an arm over he small of Harry's back, "My crush was not anyone, but the self-proclaimed king of the orphanage I lived in at that time. His name was Rick and because he was one of the oldest with just under seventeen and one of the toughest and strongest boys he could practically do what he wanted. I was so naiv to think he returned my feelings when we got together, but the truth is that he and his gang used me. It took me rather long to figure that out and as I did it was already too late. I allowed him to take my innocence- I had never slept with a boy before- and when we had sex, he took no notice of the pain he caused me and after he had got what he had wanted he threw me away like an empty bottle. It was the time when Grindelwald was at the prime of his reign and we were allowed to do magic during the holidays. Practically everyone in that orphanage had a criminal streak- without it we would have gone under- but Rick and his little gang put it to a new level. Everyone knew that they broke into shops and houses and stole everything they could get their grimy little hands on. I used an Eavesdropping Charm to find out when they planned to strike next and when they did I followed them, locked them in the shop and made their clothes disappear. Then I called the police, who arrested them. I never saw him again, but I swore to myself that I would never allow anyone again to take advantage of me."

He looked down at Harry, whose arms had tightened around him almost protectively, and noticed that he was crying silently, while one of his small hands was caressing his chest.

"It seems I have a talent for making you cry", he joked half-heartedly and Harry's throat escaped something between a laugh and a sob: "I'm sorry."

"It's a long time in the past and I got my revenge", Tom shrugged, "I just thought you deserved to know why I don't want to bottom, not even for you."

"I don't want you to bottom, either", Harry mumbled into his chest, "Like I said it would be weird and I wouldn't know what to do and I don't want to bring back bad memories for you. I don't understand why Lucius would suggest something like this."

"I thought that was pretty obvious, Harry", he ran his fingers through the inky black hair, "I hurt you, don't I? I cause you pain and you don't like it at all. If I don't find a way to make it more pleasant for you, I don't think that I have the right to demand something like this from you. Harry, are you listening?"

Had Tom read a book about how to embarrass one's spouse the most thoroughly? They could talk about the weather or classes, but no, they had to talk about sex. Harry didn't want to discuss it, he was fine. Why did no-one believe him? He had to bottom, so? He was used to it by now. He didn't want to think about rape or sex or whatever Tom deemed to call it. Of course Tom didn't want to bottom after such an experience, that was more than understandable. Still he couldn't quite avoid thinking that he had been raped, too, and no-one was considerate of his feelings. To be fair, he hadn't told Tom, but, damnit, he had as much right as Tom to not want to bottom! Why did he have to bring all that up? He didn't want to think about Tom in such a situation. Tom was strong, he was confident, he was always in control and as long as Harry could believe in that he could feel save and protected in his arms and he could enjoy what he was doing to his body as much as his memories allowed it. But now Tom and he were too similar for his liking and he didn't know what to do anymore.

"Harry?", Tom asked gently, when he got no reply, "Are you alright?"

"No, I'm not alright", Harry sniffed, "You always made me feel safe and special and now the only thing I see when I think of you is a frightened fifteen-year old boy, who gets raped."

"That was over fifty years ago, Harry", he answered, a bit shocked- he had not expected that his story would upset his fragile husband so much, "And it wasn't rape, I wanted it. I wanted him and I wanted it at that time and I wouldn't have minded the pain if he had really loved me or well returned my feelings at least. I was used, yes, but not raped. I had my wand with me all the time. If I had wanted I could have stunned or cursed him easily. So I wasn't frightened, either, I was nervous. I always felt superior to him and after he was gone I took his throne. My revenge was perfect. I don't have nightmares, I'm not traumatised, I'm not even scared to bottom, I just don't want to because I promised it to myself. You can still feel safe and definitely special because I'm still one of the most powerful wizards and I have the most influential, intelligent and powerful wizards at my command. If I wanted I could squash that Muggle and watch the police trying to find evidence. So, please, Harry, stop crying."

"You must think I'm stupid", Harry began to rub his eyes.

"No, I think you're compassionate, emphatic and sensitive", he gently kissed Harry's forehead, "And I think that I'm a very lucky man."

The small boy nodded and gently kissed his chest (Tom was actually so shocked by that gesture that he totally forgot to show his appreciation), before he sat up.

"You... When you're inside of me, could you give me more time to adjust?", he finally asked timidly.

"Of course", Tom smiled gently, "I will wait until you tell me that I can move again, okay?"

"Okay", Harry fidgeted nervously, "Could you do something with the lubricant as well? It's really cold."

"Sure", Tom encouraged him to go on, but Harry was not sure how to word his other request and so Tom asked gently, "You said yesterday that you concentrate on me while we have sex. What exactly did you mean?"

The green-eyed wizard worried his bottom-lip: "I don't know if you have noticed, but in the very beginning I really shut down completely", Tom nodded to show that he had indeed noticed, "But with time I let down some of my shields and concentrated on what you felt instead of what I felt. I always wanted you to enjoy yourself, I wanted that at least one of us was happy in this marriage so I chose you and when we had sex I absorbed your happiness and pleasure and you know... all that stuff. This way I could drown my own feelings. I used your emotions to build the walls stronger, to reinforce my barriers. I can understand if you don't want that."

"No, Harry", Tom kissed his wrist, once more earning himself a curious and surprised stare, "You can do that. Would it help if I let down more of my own shields?"

Harry shook his head violently: "No, whatever your shields are they don't work with me and those feelings and I don't want to drown in your memories and that would most likely happen if you let down all of them."

"Okay, is there anything else I can do?", Tom asked, seeing that Harry needed a bit of prodding to come out with it, "Just tell me."

"Could you do more of the things I said I liked?", Harry blushed once again and Tom chuckled, pulling him back into the sheets, gently lifting himself so that he hovered over him: "Like that?", he teased Harry's lips with his tongue, "Or more like this?", he began to rub his abdomen.

Harry mewed happily and wriggled a little, till the pillow lay comfortably under his head, and smiled at him: "Like both."

"Oh, really? And what about this?", he kissed a line from behind Harry's right ear along his jaw-line and down the pale throat, "Or maybe that, little lion", he slowly started to unbutton Harry's shirt once more after he had asked permission with his eyes, showering the exposed skin with open-mouthed kisses, his tongue darting out boldly every once in a while.

Harry's arm wrapped around Tom's neck on their own accord and his eyes sparkled as he nodded slowly. Tom smiled at him as he gingerly coaxed Harry's arms over his head, the pyjama shirt bunched at his wrist, revealing the creamy white skin of the insides of his arms.

He blew on it experimentally, chuckling lowly as Harry shivered involuntarily, before he once again pressed his lips against the soft skin, making his path from one wrist down to his armpit, noting with amusement that Harry seemed to be very ticklish in that area, and then down his side until he reached Harry's left hipbone, just to start again on his other side. Harry writhed under him, arching into his touch or shying away when he had found a ticklish spot, but all the while purring and mewing happily.

"It looks to me like you enjoy that to, my sweet little Harry", he whispered softly and chastely licked Harry's bottom lip, caressing it until he was permitted entrance.

The kiss stayed sweet and gentle and every stroke and tip of his tongue was so cautious and almost shy that for the first time it felt to Harry like he really had a chance to stop it- not that he wanted to. Tom's hands were tenderly cupping his face, brushing over his skin rhythmically and soothingly.

"Harry?"

"Mhm?"

"Would it be alright, if I gave you a blow job?", Tom enquired pleadingly; as he saw the slightly panicked expression that crossed Harry's face he continued, "Just a blow job and if you I do something wrong you can hit me over the head or curse me or scream at me."

Harry chuckled despite his insecurity before he grew serious once more: "Will you hold my hand? That sounds stupid..."

"No, it doesn't", Tom assured him and captured one of Harry's hands, freeing it from the pyjama and enclosing it with his own, "It's your safety anchor. If it gets too much you can pull me away, right?"

Harry nodded, grabbing onto Tom's hand with his second hand, and leaned back into the pillows. Tom kissed him once more, thanking him for the trust Harry was showing him, while his right hand already wandered into Harry's loose-fitting pyjama pants.

The slim hips bucked as his fingers danced over Harry's half-erect cock, as he pushed the clothes down his slender legs and over his small feet, throwing them to the floor, somewhere behind him. Harry's hand in his tightened as the cool air brushed over his sensitive flesh and he squeezed back reassuringly. He took the time to explore the milky white thighs and the still flat stomach first with his fingers and then with his lips until Harry's grip on his left hand had relaxed again. Harry growled warningly at him as he blew on his cock teasingly, making him chuckle and sooth him with a kiss to the head of his cock. He took a long swipe over the length of his hard cock, kissing a ring around it's base, before moving up again and finally taking the tip of it into his mouth. Harry mewled as he felt the wet heat engulf him and helplessly tried to buck his hips again, to get nearer, closer, deeper, more of that overwhelming sensation, but Tom, the cruel tease he was, pinning his hips with his free hand, refused to do more then suckle lightly.

"Move, Tom", he finally commanded, though it sounded more like begging, "That is not funny."

Tom chuckled, sending vibrations through Harry's shaft, but obediently plunged down, taking Harry in to the hilt, revelling in the suppressed cry that escaped Harry's mouth and the almost painful grasp on his hand. He ignored his own rock-hard erection, as he began to bob his head up and down, licking every patch of heated skin and driving Harry crazy or at least towards his climax, that hit with full force soon after. He made sure to swallow every droplet of bittersweet liquid, lapping up the few drops that had escaped his mouth and had landed in the soft black curls surrounding Harry's cock.

"That was good", Harry purred as he tugged him up, snuggling into his arms, "Thank you."

"It was my pleasure", he smirked as he saw the slight blush that graced Harry's cheeks, "But provided you're not too tired, I still have some things I'd like to show you, Mr. Potter."

"Oh, really, Professor Riddle?", Harry said, reacting to the joke, "Do fill me in."

"I would like to kiss you again", he did just that, his lips lingering over Harry's as he continued, "Just like that. I would like to suckle your nipples", he licked one nub, teasingly, Harry arching into the soft touch, "Yes, but what I really want to do now... at this very moment... is to give you a massage."

The green eyes seemed mildly confused at this turn of events, but Harry allowed Tom to turn him around gently till he lay on his stomach. He felt a strange wave of loss as Tom moved away momentarily and returned with one of those incredibly soft towels and spread it over his arse and the upper part of his thighs before he climbed back unto the bed and dribbled vanilla-scented massage oil into his hands, rubbing them to warm it and then gently began to knead Harry's shoulders.

"See, you're all tensed up", he commented, working the knots out of his back one by one.

"No", Harry's small voice stopped him ten minutes or so later as he moved one of his legs over Harry's frail form, so that he was hovering over him, "Please, don't do this. It scares me."

"I'm sorry. I didn't think", he apologised, thinking Harry remembered his deeds from earlier that week and sat back down next to Harry, continuing to stroke his muscles.

"It's okay", Harry mumbled, craning his neck so that he could look at the red-eyed man, "Tom?"

"Yes, beautiful?"

"I was wondering...", he took a deep breath, "If we could do it now instead of tomorrow?"

"If that is what you want", Tom answered, diligently masking his eagerness, his arousal was really painful by now, from that delicious young body under his hands and the small noises in his ears, "But I'd give you a massage again tomorrow, if you'd like. I don't want to ruin this evening for you, Harry. This is your evening and I'll do anything you want me to do- even make you pancakes again just to then order some from Dobby."

"No, I want to do it now", Harry blushed crimson, "I really like all this, but I could enjoy it much better if that wasn't hanging over my head. And I feel bad because you spoilt me with all your attention and I have done nothing for you."

"You did a lot of things for me, Harry", he argued gently, "But I can't say that I'm not absolutely delighted by your idea."

"Okay, then", Harry crawled into his lap.

_I really need that lube now_, Tom thought, as Harry timidly began to caress his erection through his pyjama bottoms and indeed he held the tube in his hands moments later. He squeezed a liberal amount of it in the palms of his hands and rubbed them together until the coldness was gone and then spread it over his fingers before he let them ghost to Harry's entrance. Harry whimpered at the first contact and he stopped immediately, wanting this to be perfect, not wanting to spoil the harmony that had existed between them earlier.

**--- SCENE EDITED ---**

Tom sighed deeply. This had been the best sex of his life and he knew that Harry had felt more than he had ever felt before because he had wanted to see him happy, Harry had trusted him, he allowed himself to be vulnerable so that he wouldn't hurt his feelings once more and that alone was all the proof he needed to know that Harry loved him, too (though a confession would also be nice).

He pulled out a bottle of special healing salve Severus had made for him after he had found out about their problem and gently massaged it into the abused skin around Harry's entrance before he spoke a Cleaning Charm over both of them, fetched Harry's teddy bear from where it had landed on the floor, covered them with the blanket and pulled the exhausted boy into his arms. Yes, he was a very lucky man!

* * *

**If each of you would send me a review, I'd be the happiest person alive, but I guess that won't happen... Oh, well, a girl can dream...**

**#waves with the humble remainings of burnt REVIEW flag#**


	44. Friends?

**Disclaimer: All the wonderful, fabulous characters belong to the wonderful, fabulous J.K. Rowling. I mean no offence to anyone and I don't make no money with this.**

**Author's Note: Sorry, this took me so long, but I had to catch up on some work. And to make up for it this chapter is rather long and that without any blackmail...**

**Oh, and I hope that I managed to send everyone who wnated one a complete chapter, but it got pretty confusing because most of the time the email addresses didn't show. I think I sent everyone, but Consu a chapter. Sorry, but your email address was deleted again... If anyone else didn't get a chapter, tell me and I will see what I can do...**

* * *

**44. FRIENDS?**

When Harry awoke the next morning it was to gentle, caressing fingers and smiling red-eyes and a huge bouquet of red roses.

"What's this?", he mumbled confusedly- why would Tom be sitting on the bed with a bunch of flowers?

"Well, normally they are called roses", Tom smirked slightly at the disgruntled expression on Harry's face.

"You can't expect me to appreciate your sarcasm so early in the morning", he muttered as he threw back the blankets that had been wrapped tightly around his body and walked past Tom to the bathroom, leaving him angry with himself for making fun of the black-haired Gryffindor.

"Tom?", Harry had returned to the bedroom to find something suitable to wear and found the older man still sitting on the bed with the flowers on his lap, "I'm sorry I made you angry."

His face snapped up at those words and he patted the bed next to him wordlessly, waiting till Harry was sitting stiffly next to him: "I'm angry at myself, Harry. I wanted to give you those flowers to show you how much I want to thank you for last night and to ask your forgiveness once more. I was stupid of me to make that comment earlier."

"Those roses are for me?", Harry asked surprised and Tom smiled at him and transferred them into Harry's lap, "Thank you."

"I thought that you might like to go down for breakfast, which was the reason I woke you up", Harry nodded eagerly, still tracing the red petals, mesmerised, "Should I put them in water for you?"

Harry smiled at him: "Those are the most amazing roses I've ever seen", Harry carefully handed them back.

"You might want to take a jacket with you", the red-eyed man advised from the doorway, "Your godfathers asked if you would like to see your new room in their house and Lucius offered to take you to Hogsmead after breakfast, where they want to meet you."

"They didn't ask me", Harry said perplexedly and a little hurt.

"I think they did, Harry", he waved at a pile of unopened letters that sat on Harry's night table, "Lupin only saw fit to ask me as well. And you don't have to go, I just thought you might enjoy spending time with them, so I agreed."

"I want to go", Harry smiled happily at him before he skipped over to the tall man and hugged him tightly, "Thank you."

Tom sighed inaudibly while he put the roses into water. The things he did for Harry! While Harry would undoubtedly enjoy the time with his godfathers he would spent his time with the exciting task of preparing his lessons, write some pop-up quizzes and go through the Death Eater reports, strategizing how to best deprive Dumbledore of his power and keep him away from his Harry, all the while imagining how fantastic it would be to have Harry with him.

And that really was how their separate days were: Harry forced some breakfast down his throat, sitting in Tom's lap, who glared at Dumbledore whenever he tried to speak up, and then walked with Lucius down to Hogsmead, where Sirius and Remus were waiting for him. The older Animagus pulled him into his arms and apparated them to the borders of their new property, from where they walked up to the modest cottage house with natural stone walls and a bright red roof and many wild flowers, growing everywhere around them. The front wall was almost completely covered in ivy and the two small towers made it look more like a small castle then a normal house.

His own room turned out to be a long room on the second floor, with white walls and five windows. In one corner stood a queen-sized four-poster bed in Gryffindor colours and with the names Moony, Prongs, Padfoot and a scratched-out Wormtail carved in the headboard and Remus explained that it had been his bed during his schooldays and that they had all cut their names into it one fateful day when the retaliation of a prank against the girls' dormitory had resulted in the soaking of the three other beds (Remus had been spared because it had been the full moon when the prank had been carried out) and they had slept in that one bed. When Professor McGonagall had inspected their room a week before their graduation she had found the damage and since Sirius strictly refused to remove his name he had instead bought it.

Next to it on a small table stood several photos: One of his parents wedding day, the same he had found in his album, one with his parents and him as a baby, the one he had got from Dudley for his birthday and one with the three of them, which had been made on Christmas in Grimmauld Place.

There was a small working area, which Remus had insisted on and Sirius had insisted on being so moderate and a long bookshelf next to it.

Near one of the windows stood a comfy-looking brown armchair with a small secret compartment in the wall behind it, which held a safety supply of Wizarding sweets.

The only other furniture was an old cupboard for his clothes.

After the two lovers had showed him around the rest of their home they had tea out in the garden, where Harry told them a bit reluctantly why he hadn't answered the letter and what Tom had done to him. Sirius immediately stormed back into the house and only returned one hour later, looking smug and satisfied, and wouldn't answer any of Harry's concerned questions. When Harry had finally given up Sirius showed him how to shot with bow and arrows and told him about the report he was writing, discussing the various candidates for the post of the Minister of Magic, while Remus was tending to the flower beds nearby.

At around seven they brought him back to Hogsmead, where Tom was already waiting for him, and with many promises to write and assurances that they would always be there for him they said their good-byes, though not before a last warning glare to Tom.

Tom's high-light had been that the students once again parted respectfully in front of him (something they had neglected a little in the past week) and that Dumbledore kept his distance.

Then not exactly surprisingly Black had stormed into his quarters and had started to scream at him in such a volume that the words were still ringing in his ears: "You overgrown, big-headed cockroach", that was only the first insult and if he said so himself they became more inventive with time, "How is it possible that one sole idiot can fuck up so badly? Is it really so difficult to figure out that poisoning Harry is more than a bad idea? How did you expect him to react while you were raping him?", suffice to say, Black didn't expect an answer to those questions, "I would castrate and bury you alive under Dumbledore's desk so that you would have to listen to him all day long and hear him snoring in the night, but then Harry would blame himself and you are definitely not worth it. You have no right to be forgiven!", at this point Black had pushed him against the wall and he hadn't done anything to protect himself when a wand was pointed at his heart- he deserved to suffer for what he did to Harry after all and he didn't need a furious godfather to tell him that, "Do you think, just because you love him that everything is alright again? Do you think flowers and pancakes can make up for how much pain you caused him? I could still see how much he had suffered and your stupid declaration of love did nothing to help him one bit. Don't you think you should perhaps stop hurting him before throwing something like this at his head? He never knew what it feels like to be loved... Do you really want him to believe that love is supposed to hurt? Merlin, how can you be so dim-witted?", Black had trailed off exasperatedly and ran his fingers through his hair, stepping back a little.

"Wasn't it you who told me to tell him as soon as possible?"

"Did I tell you to break his shields and cause him more pain than you can possibly imagine?", Sirius had snapped, "This is not a convenient excuse for you, Voldemort! It may not mean anything to you, but to Harry it most definitely does..."

"He didn't believe me in any case", he had answered, not seeing a fault in that reasoning.

"And that is okay for you?", Black had mocked him, "And it is okay for you that Harry is even more confused and feels even more betrayed now, is it? Have you any idea what he's thinking right now? No, of course you wouldn't..."

"Well, no-one is telling me anything..."

"You knew he was an empath, you knew that he needs his shields", the Animagus had shouted at him, jumping up once more, "What else is there to know for you, if you already do more than enough harm with this small information?"

"Are you telling me that his empathy is the only reason why he acts like he does?", he had retorted, "Something is definitely wrong with Harry and whatever I did to him isn't even half as bad as you make it out in comparison to what has already happened to him. His empathy may intensify my mistakes and I don't deny that I messed up more than badly, but can you really expect me to react correctly when I don't know what is wrong with him?"

"I don't know either", Sirius had admitted and for a moment he had wavered in his belief that Harry was keeping secrets from him, "But I don't hurt him because of it and I will never force him to tell me."

"But there is something wrong?"

"Yes, there is something wrong", Harry's godfather had sighed, "But I can accept that Harry doesn't want me to know and that he obviously doesn't want you to know. I think I have a fairly good guess and you can believe me that if I had any proof for my assumption that I would confront him about it, but I don't and though I want to help him, I can't do so as long as I don't know what is going on. You should have informed me about Harry's state."

"I wanted to avoid this situation..."

"And you claim to love him?", Sirius had stared at him disapprovingly before leaving without another word, leaving him with his own confused thoughts.

He just couldn't understand Harry's reasoning in telling Severus and most likely Lucius and the Lestranges, but not him or Black. Now that Sirius was gone he could admit that he silently admired the Animagus for handling this so well, for standing up for his godson when Harry wasn't willing to do so himself, for not nursing his wounded pride, but to take care of the small boy, even though not knowing what was wrong. Not for the first time he wondered what kind of bond the two of them had.

Other than that the day held little surprises or even slightly exciting aspects. One Seventh-year Ravenclaw had only handed half of her essay in and after debating it briefly he decided to leave her paper unmarked until he got the second part. Jugson, who had been in Rumania for the last month, wrote him a report, stating that he had returned and that the Rumanian Minister was willing to support him if he guaranteed the integrity of his own country.

He was now able to perform more complex charms and spells without a wand, though he was unable to do any curses. Severus came by and brought some more potions for Harry. And he had to visit the bathroom more then once to relieve the tension in a certain part of his anatomy.

Harry was so tired by the time they reached their rooms that the only thing he was fantasising about was a soft pillow and a warm blanket. Tom noticed this, too, and, not wanting to push Harry, sent him to bed while he stayed awake for a few more hours to read a book he had found 'Wandless Magic- Myth or Reality?'.

"Potter", an unfriendly, all to familiar voice called from behind him, stopping him on his way to Charms the next day, "We have to talk- in private", Hermione glared at Draco and Blaise, who were accompanying him once again.

"Dream on, buck-teeth", Draco sneered, pulling Harry into a one-armed hug.

"No-one was talking to you, Ferret-boy", Ron's face had turned an unbecoming shade of bright red, "We want to talk to Harry."

"We aren't hindering you", Blaise shrugged, looking bored, "If you could hurry perhaps? We are going to be late for Charms."

That got Hermione's attention: "We can be friends again after you have apologised to all of us", she motioned to Ginny and Ron, who stood next to her, "And accepted our rules."

"Oh, you know the meaning of that word", Draco mocked, acting surprised, "What rules would that be? School rules, house rules, moral rules or perhaps safety rules. You've broken all of them didn't you, Granger, so it doesn't make much of a difference, right?"

"Rules for our friendship", Ginny sneered, "After all, Harry obviously needs some guidelines."

"You will stay in Gryffindor again", Hermione demanded imperiously, "You will stop stealing the attention that rightfully belongs to us. Ginny will be Seeker from now on. You will stop pretending to be more clever than I am- we both know that you don't come anywhere near it, don't we? And of course you will break all contact with those two and the other Slytherins...", she contemptuously jerked her bushy head in their direction, "There are a few more rules, but those are the most important."

"No", Harry said quietly, grabbing both of the Slytherins to prevent them from answering for him, "I am sorry that I hurt you with my actions, but I still think that what I did was right and I would do so again. Draco and Blaise are my friends, they helped me when all you did was making it worse, insulting me, trying to hex me and threatening me. They are self-confident enough not to think that I'm stealing their attention and instead showed me more of it than you ever did. I can't change my life and won't change myself just to please you because that would disappoint a lot of people that actually return my affection... I'm sorry, but I want more from my friends than you can give me", he pulled his wand, steadily pointing it at them as the two Slytherins did the same, "You should go now!"

"We already gave you more than you deserved", Hermione snapped, "Without me you would have failed potions in first year. Without Ron you would never have known what Quidditch is."

"And if it weren't for me no-one would desire you, you're ugly, Harry", Ginny pushed her generously revealed breasts towards him, "You think you can have everyone, don't you? That they're just waiting for you to show up and fuck them, but everyone knows Slytherins have bad taste and you fit that category perfectly. You are a dirty, little whore, not even worth a knut and no-one but a Slytherin would even want to pay that much for your services..."

"You wouldn't even get a client if you paid them, Weaslette", Blaise sneered, "This is the last warning, one more word and we'll show you what our fathers told us."

"This is not over, yet", Hermione hissed, though the last few words ended in a gurgle as Draco washed her mouth out with soap before unceremoniously dropping her out of an open window; fortunately or unfortunately, depending on who you were asking, they were only on the first floor.

Ginny squeaked horrified and ran down the corridor, not even bothering to glare one last time at Harry or to look after Hermione, who had started screaming through the window that she was hurt badly and that she would sue Draco for attacking her, to which the blond only rolled his eyes before calmly closing the window.

"What are you waiting for Weasel?", he drawled, "Do you want a personal invitation?"

Ron shook his head slowly as if in deep thought: "I wanted to apologise", he finally croaked out, looking at Harry pleadingly, "You know me, Harry, I'm not clever, I never really had to think for myself. There was always someone, first mum and then you and Hermione and Dumbledore. I didn't mean to hurt you. You are my best friend, Harry. I thought I'd agree with what Hermione said that you were evil and that you didn't give a damn about us, that you had betrayed us. But then I talked to Fred and George, they gave me a piece of their minds, they said that you were family and that you were the best that ever happened to us and I came to realise that it's true. I'm sorry for how I treated you in the last few month, I should have been there for you. It was not your fault what happened. I should have asked you and be more considerate of your feelings. It was not fair of me to demand such a thing from you. I'm just not good with such things, you know that."

"It's too easy to live out your faults and say this is who you are, Weasley", Blaise sneered, "You say you know that you're not good with such things and that you're not clever- don't get me wrong, I'm absolutely not denying it- and yet you expect Harry to take you back. He's better off without you, he doesn't need anyone who makes his life even more complicated."

"Shut up", Ron shouted at him, his face becoming redder with every moment, "No-one was talking to you. Harry, I know that you don't need me, but I need you. I need you to be a better person and I need you to tell me what to do so that I don't hurt anyone else. I want to change, Harry, I want to be the best friend that I could ever be. Maybe you still have some space in your life for me, please?"

"I don't love you", Harry pressed out, "I never loved you like you expect me to do. I'm married, I signed a contract, saying that I would be faithful and I will. I will not hurt Tom and I will not give up any of my friends, Ron. I can't give you what you want."

"I don't love you that way, either, Harry, promise", Ron flushed in embarrassment, "I think I never really did. I wanted you, yes, I know this doesn't make it any better", he pulled out a Wizarding photo from his robe pocket, "Creevey made this last year. I just couldn't stop thinking about this."

Harry took the photograph with shaking hands, nearly dropping it, as he saw what was on it before pressing it against his chest with the picture side down and blushing crimson. The photo had been taken after Quidditch practise. He could still remember that day. It had been so hot and Angelina had pushed them mercilessly, until they all had been raining sweat over the pitch and on each other. Everyone else had went down to have swim in the lake in order to cool down a little and Harry had been left alone in the changing rooms after he had finally convinced everyone that he really didn't want to join in. He could remember the icy water of the shower pounding on his sore and heated body, so refreshing, and then suddenly he had felt that he wasn't alone anymore. There was someone, someone who was watching him eagerly, it was so much like his uncle. Longing, lust, anticipation, hunger. He hadn't however noticed someone taking a photo and he had never found out who had been there, for as he finally regained his senses he was already out in the Forbidden Forest, his shoes still undone, the socks forgotten somewhere, the shirt the wrong way up. On the photo he was completely naked, the water doing little to hide his nudity as he swayed under the water.

"I confiscated it and told him if he made copies of this or told anyone else about it, I would lock him in the Vanishing Closet after testing some of Fred and George's products", Ron was also blushing, "I wanted to give it to you, honestly, but then I just couldn't anymore. I kept dreaming of you and how you looked in that photo and then I started to imagine how it would feel to touch you in that way, to take a shower with you, to kiss you. I just couldn't take it anymore when I saw you in Diagon Alley, you were so beautiful, Harry. I'm sorry."

"You won't do it again, will you?", Harry asked pleadingly and Ron, in spite of the two Slytherins, hugged him fiercely, pulling his small friend to his broad chest: "No, Harry, you are my brother, my best friend. Please, give me another chance."

"Okay", Harry whispered, "But only if you accept that Draco and Blaise are my friends, too."

Ron grimaced, but nodded: "I'll even support you with You-know-who if it makes you happy. But if they ever hurt you..."

"Thanks", Harry laughed happily, "I think they know that already."

"My name's Ronald Weasley", he struck out his hand to Draco, "It's nice to meet you."

"Honestly, that's so childish", Draco rolled his eyes, smirking slightly as he shook the red-head's hand, "But what can you expect of a Weasley?"

"Oh, I perceive some underlying tension there, Dracipoo", Blaise teased the blond, "Didn't Charlie write today?"

"Ha, I knew it was his owl", Ron punched the air triumphantly, before he went pale, "Oh, shit you are Charlie's new boy-friend?"

"No, idiot", Draco snapped annoyedly, "We're seeing each other, there's a difference."

"Yeah, sure", Harry and Ron said simultaneously before bursting into peels of laughter.

"You know", Blaise said pensively to his blond friend, "I thought it was bad that Harry had a humour, I don't understand, but I just realised that's it's much worse when he has someone to share it with."

Draco nodded in agreement: "Gryffindors are strange, aren't they?", he mused, "Why is it again that we like Harry?"

"I have no idea", Blaise shrugged his shoulders.

"Hey", Harry cried indignantly, "You are both mean."

"Great, can we leave then?", Ron asked hopefully, but Harry hit him over the head, which made the Slytherins smirk triumphantly, "I was only suggesting."

"We should go to Charms", Blaise said, handing Harry his bag, "See you around, Weasley."

"I have Charms, too", Ron protested.

"Wow, we're impressed", Draco sneered, not sounding impressed at all.

"What is that supposed to mean, Malfoy? If it weren't for your family's money, you wouldn't even be going to Hogwarts."

"And if your family had money, then maybe they could pay for your stay in St. Mungo's..."

"Stop", Harry clutched his head in pain, "Please, stop, both of you."

"Sorry", Draco mumbled, gently taking him in his arms, "We stopped. It's okay. Don't worry."

"Yes, Harry", Ron also enveloped the smaller boy with his long arms, although he was bound to also touch the blond, who didn't seem to notice, "I'm sorry, too. I won't insult Malfoy anymore, if it hurts you."

"I don't want you to fight", Harry sniffed, "Can't you at least try to get along? Please."

"Yes, we'll try, little hero", Draco nodded at Ron, who nodded back, "What we said to each other had nothing to do with you, Harry."

"I'm sorry."

"Not this again, Harry", Blaise groaned irritatedly, "We already had this. You don't have to apologise to them. They're both idiots... Let's go to Charms, okay. You can apologise to Flitwick if it makes you happy, I don't think he'll believe us that we couldn't find the classroom."

"Wait", Harry grabbed his arm, effectively preventing him from going just yet, and rummaged through his bag, finally extracting four slips of paper, holding them out triumphantly, "Tom gave them to me."

"Wow, this is great", Ron grabbed one of the papers, studying the elegant scrawl, "But why did he give them to you?"

"Let's get to class", Draco interrupted, saving Harry from an answer, taking the quill Blaise offered him and wrote his name onto the paper, stating that Professor Riddle had kept them, watching in fascination as the writing changed to match the rest of the letters.

The two Gryffindors also filled in their passes before they all took off to the charms classroom.

"Mr. Potter", the dwarf squeaked after he had read the paper, "It seems to me that Professor Riddle is making a habit of delaying you and your friends."

"I'm sorry, Professor", Harry fidgeted a little, "I'll talk to him."

"Take a seat, Mr. Potter", Flitwick sighed, feeling sympathy for the delicate boy, "You should have no problem with the Translation Spell we're learning today. The instructions are on page 314."

Everyone turned back to work after this, the short interruption having been a welcome opportunity to exchange and come up with the newest gossip. And soon after the books in front of the students, began to sprout wings, change colours, their size and in the rarest of cases their language while Flitwick was trying to preserve some kind of order in his classroom.

The relaxed atmosphere was interrupted a second time as a wet and slightly soapy Hermione Granger stormed into the classroom without knocking, banging the door behind her, effectively rising all the half asleep students, who had long since given up on making their books speak another language.

"Miss Granger", the diminutive Professor was quite shocked- so shocked in fact that he fell from his stack of books, "I must insist that you keep quiet, this a room for learning."

"Professor", Hermione gasped, trying to regain her breath, "Malfoy hexed me and threw me out of a window."

"Miss Granger, you should maybe go to the hospital wing and calm down", the Charms professor suggested gently so as not to upset her even further, "Mr. Malfoy, can't have done anything to you."

"I am calm", Hermione spat, "Ron can testify to it."

"Mr. Weasley?"

"I don't know what she is talking about", Ron lied, the tips of his ears tinted red, "We all had a talk with Professor Riddle. I can't remember seeing her at all."

"Five points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger", Flitwick declared gravely, "I never thought you would accuse someone falsely just to excuse your lateness. I would suggest you leave my classroom. I will have to talk with Professor McGonagall about this..."

"But, Professor", the bushy-haired witch looked close to tears.

"No, Miss Granger", Flitwick opened the door with a wish of his wand, "It is time for you to go."

The witch trudgingly walked out of the door, not before glaring at Ron and Harry, who had his head bowed as if in deep concentration, but was indeed hiding tears.

Blaise, inconspicuously, pretending to look closely at his book, grabbed his hand under the table, squeezing encouragingly: "Not your fault, Harry, she's just a bitch, you can't change that. You have Weasley back and you have us, you don't need her."

"I thought she would understand", Harry whispered, "She was always the clever one."

"All her books didn't help her one bit to gain some common sense", Blaise murmured lowly, "Or she would see what she's missing. Even Weasley found that out."

"What if he starts hating me again, Blaise? What if he kisses me again? I don't want him to kiss me."

"We'll make sure of that, Harry", the Italian boy promised, "We'll teach him what it means to be a good friend."

"Are you angry at me for forgiving him?", Harry asked unsurely.

"No, we're happy for you that you got your friend back, even though it's Weasley", Blaise had to stop briefly since Flitwick was passing their table, nodding approvingly at Harry's work, "Just don't cast us aside."

"I would never cast you aside", Harry exclaimed a bit too loudly, alerting both Ron and Draco to their conversation.

"I know that", Blaise chuckled, ruffling Harry's hair, "I was only teasing you."

Harry glared at him. Blaise only laughed harder.

"Let's get some food in you", Draco declared as Flitwick had just dismissed the class, "I have strict orders from my mother to fatten you up."

"We have to find Tom first", Harry argued, turning in the opposite direction and almost running into Tom, who caught him easily in his arms.

"What do you need me for, kitten?", he murmured amusedly, "Missed me already?"

"Maybe", Harry smiled up at him, "Did you miss me?"

"No, I was just admiring the intriguing wall pattern in this part of the corridor", Tom teased him before sweeping down to kiss his husband, "I like the wall pattern, you know?"

"In this case I didn't miss you one bit", Harry pouted, making to turn around.

"And why were you looking for me?", Tom chuckled, carefully pulling the resisting boy back in his arms, "To tell me that you didn't miss me?"

"I just wanted to warn you that Flitwick thinks we had a talk with you earlier", Harry stated boredly, "If you would let me go now?"

"And who exactly is included in that we?", Tom inquired, not letting go of Harry.

"Draco, Blaise, Ron and I obviously", Harry turned around, grinning happily, "Ron and I made up, isn't that great? And Draco threw Hermione out of the window and then she stormed into the classroom, all wet and soapy and said it was Draco, who did this to her, but we had the pass and Ron said he hadn't seen her at all and Flitwick sent her out... Ginny was there, too, she and Hermione still hate me, but Ron apologised and he even stood up for Draco", Harry's smile widened again.

"Harry, I didn't give you those slips for something like that", Tom demurred and Harry's face fell immediately.

"I'm sorry", he murmured, looking down at the floor, "I'll tell Flitwick that I lied. I'm sorry, it won't happen again."

"No, Harry, stop", Tom grabbed his arm, "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean for it to come out like this", he gently lifted Harry's chin, making him look up again, "I'm glad for you that Weasley apologised, though I don't think that makes up for abandoning you, but it's your decision and I'm probably the last one who should be complaining. And it's alright that you used the slips, it's your decision as well, it just sounded a bit like you were skipping classes on purpose and I don't want that."

"I was not skipping on purpose", Harry protested weakly, "They stopped us in the hallway and Hermione and Ginny, they had all those rules and they wanted me to apologise and give up on all of you and...", Harry choked.

"Shh, it's alright", Tom murmured soothingly, tenderly embracing the sobbing boy, "I should have been more understanding and supportive. I know how much they mean to you."

"I didn't want them to get into trouble..."

"I know, sweetie", Tom kissed his forehead lightly.

"I won't do something like this again", Harry promised, "I'll only use them when I'm in pain."

"No, use them whenever you need them", Tom smiled down at him before taking him by the hand slowly leading him towards the Great Hall; the three other boys had long since left them alone, Ron looking slightly green after he had seen his best friend being kissed by the Dark Lord, "Just promise me to be careful around Ron, I don't want you to get hurt."

Harry nodded obediently, returning the smile full force before he plopped down next to Draco, pretending to have not noticed Ron waving from the Gryffindor table. A full plate with delicious-looking vegetable lasagne was immediately placed in front of him, followed by another plate full of mixed salad and a glass of pumpkin juice.

"Why didn't you come over?", Ron asked from behind him just as he was happily shuffling lasagne in his mouth and Harry could feel the confusion and slight hurt, radiating of him.

"Because at this table there are a lot more of my friends than at the Gryffindor table", Harry sighed, "And I'm trying to avoid Hermione and Ginny. I can feel them glaring at me from all across the hall- I don't plan to find out how much more intense it gets when they are not so far away."

"Oh", Ron shuffled his feet in indecision.

"Take a seat or your leave, Weasley", Draco finally snapped when the red-haired youth only stood there, not knowing what to do, "But stop breathing down my neck."

"Shove it, Malfoy", Ron growled back, but sat down nonetheless.

It wasn't long before Ron's need for food won over the initial discomfort and he started to fill his plate with everything in reach, emitting mild looks of disgust from the assembled Slytherins, though they bit back any scathing comment, as they both saw and heard how happy Harry was.

"...Nah, I'm fine with it, really, Harry", Ron said a short while later, his mouth now sufficiently stuffed with food, "But could you give a guy some warning next time? I mean don't you have a schedule or something?"

Harry burst out laughing: "A schedule for when he's allowed to kiss me? This is hilarious. Wonder what he'd say to this..."

"I meant it", Ron pouted, "Can't you tell him not to do that?"

"I could probably", Harry murmured, "But I kind of like it when he kisses me..."

"Oh", Ron stabbed his bratwurst rather forcefully, "I missed a lot while we weren't speaking, didn't I?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, as you said, I needed to grow up", Ron shrugged, "As long as you're happy I'll try to be happy for you, too", he grinned apologetically, "But I never was good with this stuff."

"I'm happy and I'm happy to have you back", Harry hugged the lanky boy briefly before pulling back, "But I don't want to go back to the Gryffindor Tower or eat at that table and you can't expect me to just go back to being your best friend, because you hurt me, Ron, and you betrayed me and you were not there when I fell. Draco and Blaise were, they are my best friends here in Hogwarts now..."

"Okay, Harry", Ron stopped his rambling, "I understand that. I'm still in shock that you're actually speaking to me. I'm glad that you found new friends, better friends it seems, who were there for you..."

"What happened to the old Ron?", Harry asked shockedly, "Don't tell me you're an impostor!"

Ron laughed at this: "I'm still the old Ron, I just realised that I've been an asshole that didn't and still doesn't deserve you and that I have to change in order to get you back. Can't you just write it off as the foolishness of my youth?"

"You talk like an old man", Harry chuckled.

"Comes from listening to my brothers for so long", Ron grinned, "I've got more owls in the last month than in all the previous years... By the way, could you tell Fred and George that I apologised? I'd really like to enjoy a breakfast without spiders crawling over my plate", he shuddered in horror.

"Oh, Ron", Harry said in sympathy, patting his shoulder, "They didn't tell me about this prank..."

"They told you about their pranks?", Ron asked incredulously, "This is so not fair, I'm their brother!"

"Sorry."

"Whatever for?", the red-head exclaimed, "I deserved it. Would be kind of contraproductive if they told me about the pranks they were planning to pull on me..."

"Did you start reading books?", Harry inquired surprisedly.

"I read a lot of books", the youngest male Weasley stated proudly, causing Draco to snort, causing Harry to punch him in the arm, "I had to, after all I had to find out first what I did wrong and then how to make up for it- I must have spent more time in the library than Hermione. She became really strange, you know, she and my sister, they go up to meet Dumbledore almost every day and every time they come back they start ranting about you and that you have to be eliminated. Until two days ago when they declared that we should make up with you. They spent the whole weekend coming up with those rules. You should really be careful around them, Harry, I think they lost their mind or are about to lose it... They are obsessed, much like I was. I don't know how or if I'm maybe just imagining things, but it's like I finally can think for myself again, everything after that kiss until a few days ago is kind of fussy..."

"Did you hit your head, Weasley?", Draco interrupted suddenly.

"I thought we agreed not to insult each other anymore, Malfoy", Ron spat.

"It was a serious question, for Salazar's sake", Draco sneered, "So answer it!"

"Andrew hit me with a Bludger a week or so ago", Ron gave back after a bit of consideration, "But I really don't see how this is any of your business..."

"Imperius curse, ever heard of it?", Draco drawled haughtily, "A mild or shaky one can lose it's effect after a hit to the head..."

"But why would someone use Imperius on Ron?", Harry whispered, not willing to believe what Draco was suggesting, "Why would they make him hate me?"

"Harry, do you really have to ask that?", Pansy asked gently, starting to rub his back, "If what Weasley said is true, Dumbles is willing to do everything to bring you back to the Light side or rather to get his weapon back. Even use illegal curses on your friends..."

"Then maybe Ginny and Hermione don't hate me", Harry murmured hopefully, looking at them with almost pleading eyes, "They are only still under the curse."

"I'll ask Uncle Sev to check, okay?", Draco got up, "We have Potions next and he can find it out for you."

"Thanks", Harry smiled at him, silently praying for this to be true.

The next hour while absent-mindedly throwing random ingredients in his potion, only Draco's quick reflexes preventing an explosion, he came up with reason why this made sense, why Hermione and Ginny could only be acting like this under the influence of a curse, ignoring all the reasons that pointed out the opposite. Hermione was clever, she had never abandoned him before, she had come together with Ron, though their relationship hadn't lasted all that long. Ginny had no real reason to hate him, she had lots of guys falling for her, he had saved her life, all of her brothers were now again on his side.

"Mr. Potter, please stay behind or did you really think you would get away with your inattentiveness?", Snape stopped him like he had expected and anticipated at the end of the double lesson, "Can you at least tell me what potion was the subject of this lesson?"

"No, Sir", Harry muttered, ducking his head in shame, he really hadn't done a very good job in listening and repaying Severus for the favour, "Sorry, Sir."

"You will stay here and redo the potion", the Potion's Master sneered, waiting with impatience for the last student to leave the classroom, "And no, I'm not in the least interested that you have Quidditch practise... Come here, Harry, they are gone", he opened the door to his private chambers, "We should talk about this in private", he took the slender youth by the hand, pulling him over to his armchair and then hugged him tightly, "I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry felt like his heart stopped beating for a moment before thumping furiously against his ribcage as if it wanted to jump out: "They didn't...?"

"No, Harry I'm sorry, but what they are doing is completely of their own will", Severus answered gently, wincing as one pained wail erupted from Harry's throat before the small boy began to tremble violently, choked sobs wracking his delicate form.

Not knowing what else to do, he carefully cradled the crying Gryffindor to his chest, sitting down in the armchair, and let him sob into his black robes, rocking him slightly.

"I really thought they liked me", Harry finally burst out in between sobs, "What did I do wrong?"

"Hush, don't say that", Severus pulled him even closer, "It's not your fault. I'm sure they liked you at a time, but people change when they get older, some for the better, but sadly enough also some for the worst. Add Dumbledore to this and that's where we are now. He has the unsavoury ability to play with other's minds until they believe every word that falls from his lips. He can make almost everyone forget who they are..."

"Like he did with you?", Harry asked timidly and the older wizard nodded: "There was indeed a time when I was his spy. I had just joined the Death Eaters and the torture sessions and raids shocked me to say the least. I always liked the Dark Arts, I don't deny that, the feeling of unlimited power and endless possibilities- I never saw a point in foregoing a knowledge like this. But I had never imagined how much destruction could be done with them. Then there was my uncle's execution and when Dumbledore offered to guarantee my impunity in exchange for some harmless information I agreed, jumping at the chance to get out", he laughed bitterly, feeling slim arms tighten around his stomach, as if Harry was afraid of losing him, "I was initiated in the Order of the Phoenix almost immediately after I had told Dumbledore everything I knew, which wasn't much. He said I would be protected, though he failed to inform me that the price would be far higher. He made this long speech about working together and everyone doing his or her best to save the world from evil, then he sent me off to spy... The other Order members hated me, your father and Black in the lead, Dumbledore didn't care as long as I gave him information", he looked down, meeting Harry's eyes, "They didn't respect me. Dumbledore always talked about loyalty, about fighting for each other, but I knew none of them would have fought for me, though they expected me to fight for them. I changed sides again. I confessed everything to Lucius, I told him exactly what I had told Dumbledore and he made sure that nothing went wrong for our side. It wasn't really better on the Dark Side, but I'd rather let the Dark Lord torture me for the smallest of reasons than to let Dumbledore use me with his twisted favouritism and his manipulations. I belong there, I'm respected and I can be myself. I know that none of the Death Eaters would fight for me, but they don't expect me to, either."

Harry's small hand had started to caress his face, as if trying to smoother the wrinkles around his eyes: "I'm sorry."

"No, Harry", Severus reprimanded him gently, "You have nothing to do with this and we were not talking about me, anyway. This is about you."

Harry made a valiant attempt to brush away the tears, but they only seemed to be rolling down his cheeks faster: "I don't understand, Severus. What is so wrong with me?"

"Nothing is wrong with you, Harry, don't ever think that", Severus reprimanded him gently, "The Weasley girl was never the brightest and Dumbledore has her parents firmly under his thumb. From what I heard and read in the letters I intercepted, which she was writing in my class- stupid girl, really- she thinks that you belong to her, that it is her right to have the boy-who-lived as her husband. As much as it pains me to say, Harry, but to her you're only a way to get money, fame and an obedient husband all in one and if she can't have you, no-one else will get you either. You're a trophy for her and she wants you and hates you for the same reason. Granger, is a whole different matter", he tenderly ran his fingers through Harry's unruly locks, ignoring for now how much they reminded him of James Potter, "She has it set in her mind that she should get all the merits you are currently getting. She can't accept that she isn't the best in everything. All Dumbledore had to do to turn her completely was most likely to show her a list with all the discriminations against Muggleborns and a study of how disappearingly small the percentage of couples on different sides is. But it is not your fault. You can't change what they feel and I doubt you can make them see reason. It even seems as if Granger was the one to use the Imperius on Weasley from the weakness and instability of it", he tightening his hold as Harry started sobbing heart-wrenchingly again, "Shh, they are not important", silently and secretly he wished Black or at least Lupin were there now to deal with this problem- as loath as he was to admit it, but Black was much better with this than he could ever hope to be, "Please, don't cry anymore, Harry, I have no idea what to do in such a situation. I never had to calm anyone down and I was never even allowed to hold you as a baby..."

"Why not?", Harry looked up, once again wiping away his tears.

"I think Potter was afraid I would drop you", Severus smirked humourlessly, "And Evans was overprotective even without a Death Eater around."

"I think you do a fine job in calming me", Harry mumbled, turning pink before snuggling into his chest, "And I'm sure you wouldn't have dropped me..."

"Thanks", Severus answered wryly, "I was actually more afraid you would break. You were the tiniest baby I've ever seen. Longbottom looked like the offspring of a giant against you."

"You can hold me now", Harry offered, though it sounded more like a request and the Potion's Master smiled in return: "I'd be glad to."

He carefully tugged the black-haired head under his chin, one hand resting gently on Harry's back while the other combed through the wild locks and they lapsed into a soothing silence, though he could still feel huge tears wetting his collar and his neck.

"Severus?"

"Hm?"

"How do I know that you don't hate me?", Harry asked almost two full hours later, mustering up his courage to ask this question that had been plaguing his mind.

"Why would you think that we do?", Severus asked back, tilting Harry's head up so that he had to look at him.

"I thought they liked me and I think you like me", the small boy whispered, "What if I'm wrong again? I felt that they liked me, Severus and then it changed, what if it's the same with you?"

"Don't say something like this", Severus said sternly, "I'll tell you something, I know for: We like you, we care so much about you that it hurts to see you hurt and that we couldn't go on without you anymore. You did so much for us. Slytherins are not known to be loyal, but they are to their friends and families and you are both, Harry. Lucius gave you a key to his house- a privilege not even the Dark Lord or I have, it's reserved for members of the family only, they have as good as adopted you with this. You got the Lestranges out of their shell. They barely talked to anyone other than themselves before you showed up and I know they showed you techniques that are normally reserved for the sons of the Lestrange line. Do you know how many tried to be part of Draco's clique and failed? It was only ever him and Blaise, maybe Pansy, if they were in a generous mood, the others are tolerated, but not a member. You somehow were accepted without even making an effort and, judging by your clueless face, without your knowledge. I guess I don't have to tell you that the Dark Lord never allowed anyone to come this near to him, let alone order him around. You've become far more to him than just a husband. And I've never done so much for one person as for you- more than half of the time I'm spending in my lab I spend there because of you and I come to the Great Hall for every meal to make sure you're okay and I wash my hair, because you want me, too. Don't delude yourself into thinking I would do this just to make you think I like you."

Harry happily snuggled into his chest again: "Thank you."

"You're welcome, imp", Severus sighed deeply, "Just don't ever accuse us of anything like this again."

"I won't, I'm sorry", Harry promised solemnly, "Can I ask you something?", Severus nodded against his head, "Why did you protect me when you always were on Tom's side?"

"The blood debt for one", the Potion's Master admitted, "Something like this is not to be taken lightly, it's not only a matter of honour, but it's like a magical binding contract. And you were a child, you should still be, you shouldn't have so much put on your shoulders. I guess I enjoyed the thought that I would do what your parents couldn't, that I succeeded where they had failed."

"You don't think so anymore, do you?"

"No, now I regret how I acted, because you didn't need someone to put you down, no-one to protect you for selfish reasons and I should have done so much more for you", the older wizard confessed, "But I don't have it in me to be a father."

"You do, Severus", Harry smiled timidly up at him, "Before I found out about Sirius, I often hoped you would...", he blushed ducking his head, "I know it's stupid, forget it."

"You hoped I would be your father?", Severus asked, not believing what he was hearing, but Harry nodded against his chest, "Wow", he was speechless for a moment after uttering this word he had never in his life used before he smirked triumphantly, "I think your father just turned in his grave", Harry chuckled relievedly and Severus gently cupped his face, "I would have loved to be your father, but since this job is already taken I'll contend myself with being your friend and maybe your uncle?", he asked hopefully.

"Uncle Severus?", the green-eyed boy tried it on his tongue and then nodded vigorously, "I'd like that."

"Well, then it's settled", stated Severus, "Everything okay again?"

"No, but I can't change it", he shrugged helplessly, "They hate me. So be it, I wish they wouldn't, but I won't let them hurt me more than they already do..."

The Potion's Master nodded understandingly: "Should we go find your husband? I'm sure he's already searching the whole castle for you, I'm surprised he didn't come here yet..."

As if on cue, someone forcefully hammered against the door, making it tremble and the hinges creak and Harry, chuckling, went to open the door, allowing Severus to stretch his long legs.

"Is... Harry!", Tom pulled the delicate boy in his arms, "I was so worried. I thought Dumbledore might have tried something. Salazar, never do this again, precious! Is something wrong?"

"I'll tell you later", Harry smiled at him, "Thanks for everything, Uncle Severus", he waved happily at the Potion's Master before dragging Tom from the room.

* * *

**Don't forget to review...**


	45. Sunny

**45. SUNNY**

Harry was running along the deserted hallways. _Stupid old fool!_ Dumbledore had seen it fit to literally grab him in between classes to have a word with him. And now he had a headache, both from Dumbledore's seemingly endless banter and the slight stinging of his scar. Tom was annoyed, he probably thought that he was skipping classes on purpose. He wasn't even sure if perhaps Tom wouldn't be even more pissed off when he found out that he had been talking with the headmaster. His stomach churned uncomfortably at that thought.

"Sorry, Professor", he panted out, "Professor Dumbledore wanted to talk to me."

"You can tell me about that later, Mr. Potter", Tom said dismissively, "As you can see we have a visitor today. It's your turn to prove how effective your defensive spells are against a real vampire", he motioned to the back of the corner, where a tall, pale vampire with bluish black hair stood, conversing with Seamus, "Thymus, it seems we still have another volunteer."

The vampire nodded, a confident smirk playing around his lips, as everyone else backed away to stand in a half circle around him while Harry put his things on his desk and pulled out his wand.

"Are you sure this is the whole human?", the vampire asked condescendingly as he caught sight of the petite boy, "Little twerp, do you really think you stand a chance against me?"

"The fault of tall men is that they always think to highly of themselves", Harry taunted lightly, stepping into the ring of students with cat-like grace, "Now, Mr. Vampire, are you going to attack me or not?"

His green eyes flashed almost mischievously as he straightened from his small bow. The vampire seemed to be startled by something, but only for a moment before he showed his impressive canines and pounced with supernatural speed. However, before he even touched Harry he slammed into an invisible wall that the delicate Gryffindor had conjured up wandlessly while at the same time murmuring "_Cateraqua" _under his breathe. He pocketed his wand and calmly sat on a table.

"I have a slip from Professor Dumbledore, explaining my lateness, Sir", he remarked calmly and held out the little piece of paper, "I would have informed you beforehand."

Tom sighed, reading the not very informative paper, but then nodded: "Very well, Mr. Potter, I will have to talk with the headmaster about it."

Harry shrugged, lightly leaning into Draco, who had taken a seat next to him, his eyes fixed on the waterfall that circled the vampire: "Have I won?"

"We'll wait a bit longer- he might be able to free himself", Tom stated.

"That's cruel, Professor", Harry scowled darkly at him, "He's afraid."

Tom was just about to relent when Harry suddenly cocked his head to the side, listening intently. Yes, there it was again, whispered words. Almost adjuring. But that wasn't what made him perk up- he knew those words! He slipped to his feet and cautiously walked towards the noise, towards the caged vampire. The words were becoming louder and now the others, too, became aware of it:

_"One wise old man once told me that waters are like tears,_

_And tears, despite their sadness, are nothing you should fear._

_The wise old man said to me, they wash away your pain,_

_And fears, despite your struggling, are going down the drain."_

The voice had grown steadily stronger and now a pale hand reached through the curtain of water, followed by a long arm and then the tall body of the vampire. But that wasn't what everyone was currently staring at.

It was the small black-haired boy who had stepped really close to the waterfall and was reaching out his hands while whispering the last verse together with the vampire:

_"So you as well stop fighting and hold your head up high,_

_Cause rain is just like teardrops, falling from the sky."_

The vampire had freed himself from his prison and grabbed for Harry's hands: "Harry? Is that really you?"

"Sunny?", the Gryffindor returned and was pulled into wet and strong arms, "I thought I'd never see you again."

The vampire swirled him around, laughing loudly: "It's a wonder, I didn't recognise you at once- you haven't changed one bit", he stopped his swirling and carefully pulled away the collar of Harry's robes and his ice blue shirt, tracing the two small pointy scars there mesmerised, "You still have my mark."

"Unhand my husband at once, Thymus", Tom, who hadn't been able to understand the whispered conversation and only saw his Harry in the arms of another man (or rather vampire) and how said vampire exposed Harry's neck, his teeth coming menacingly near the pale skin, hissed dangerously, pointing his wand straight at the vampire.

"Your husband?", the vampire looked confused until a look of dawning comprehension crossed his pale face, "You are Harry Potter."

"Of course I am", Harry scoffed, "Who else would I be? I did tell you my name, didn't I?"

"Well, yes, but I didn't think that you were **the**Harry Potter", he slowly let him back down on his feet, but still had his arms loosely slung around his waist, "I never even knew, you were a I wizard."

Harry laughed happily at that, but was pulled back harshly into his husband's arms, causing him to yelp in surprise and slight pain as the arms around him tightened painfully: "Keep your hands away from my husband, Thymus", he snarled, glowering at him, "You have no business with him."

"Actually I have, Voldemort", he inclined his head lightly to show that he respected the fact that Harry was already claimed, "I met Harry ten years ago and I owe him my life."

"Please, Tom, you're hurting me", Harry wriggled uncomfortably, till the hold on him loosened, "Sunny and I are friends."

"You are the vampire that Harry allowed to drink his blood", Sunny nodded lightly.

"You really allowed him to feed from you?", Ron spoke up and moved closer, "Why ever did you do that? You could have died."

Harry shrugged his shoulders: "He looked like he needed it at that time. And I'm not dead."

"And this whole story?", Tom raised his brow inquiringly, "You were saved because Harry let you feed?"

"No, not exactly", the vampire answered.

"Then tell us", demanded Terry and almost everyone nodded, "I'm sure we'd all like to know."

"Then maybe you should take seat", the vampire answered smoothly, smirking slightly at how fast everyone had found a seat, "As I mentioned before, it was some ten years ago as we met, but the real story starts about three month earlier. For a vampire I'm still rather young and at that time I was nothing more than a teenager. I was rather hungry then and in my eagerness I drank too much of an old man's blood- he would have died within the year, anyway, but his son took offence and he and his friends hunted me, making it difficult for me to feed regularly. They had driven me into a cave, where I hid in the shadows until they had given up their search. But by the time it had started raining. I was always even more afraid of water than other vampires and I didn't dare to come out there while it was still raining. I don't know if it were those humans that did it, but I doubt it. Most likely it was just Mother Nature, who decided to lock me in that cave permanently. The entrance was rather small and the river that flew over it changed its course so that the water pounded over the cliff and the entrance, locking me in", the bell signalling the end of the lesson rang, but no-one moved to get up, "With no way out I stayed there for the next few hours, days, weeks and finally months. And then Harry came", he smiled at the green-eyed boy, who sat leaned against the Dark Lord, "He was just a little boy at that time, five or six years old, but still he came towards me, not a hint of fear, and asked if he could do anything for me. I was so hungry by that time that I couldn't think clearly, could barely move. The few rabbits and rats I had caught had done little more than quench my hunger for a few hours. 'Blood' was all I could croak out and I grabbed him, 'Need your blood.' He looked at me confusedly- well I guess, it's not everyday you're asked something like that, but he crawled closer and let me feed from him."

"Didn't that hurt?", Dean asked curiously.

"A little", Harry replied calmly, "Sunny took a lot of my blood. I think, I passed out."

"Yes, you did", the vampire continued, "I drank too much- sorry about that- and you passed out. I thought, I had killed you for a moment, but then you came to again and asked if I was feeling better", he laughed as he remembered that, "And as I had said yes, he wanted me to come out because I was so pale and he thought I could use a bit of sunlight. I had to decline for obvious reasons and told him that I was a vampire."

"You hadn't realised that yet, had you, Potter?", Hermione sneered, "Of course it's hard to figure that out with only so little hints."

"Harry was six, human", Sunny snarled and barred his teeth, "And I wouldn't even have drunk your blood if you had paid me- you stink."

"Sunny", Harry said warningly and the vampire sighed before he continued: "Anyway, I also told him about my dilemma with the waterfall and he taught me this song and talked to me and tugged my hand until I overcame my anxiety and made it out of the cave."

"Why do you call him, Sunny?", Draco asked interestedly.

"He said his name was Solomon and that Sol meant sun", Harry smiled at the vampire, "I thought Sunny was much more fitting."

"Only you would call a vampire Sunny", Tom murmured in his ear, "What happened after you left that cave?"

"Sunny brought me home since it was already really late", Harry said.

"I hung around his house for several days because I wanted to thank him properly and make sure that he was fine", the vampire said softly, meaningfully looking in the green-eyes, "But every time I tried to approach his house, I was forced back."

"There were wards around that house to protect me from Tom", Harry explained.

"Tom?"

"Voldemort", Harry raised their joined hands, "We're married now, though."

"Yes, I've heard about you quite a lot then", he smirked as Harry scrunched up his nose, "You're husband wouldn't shut up about you."

"You're exaggerating", Tom scowled, "I might have mentioned Harry once or twice."

"What are you doing here, anyway?", Harry asked quietly.

"Negotiations with your husband", Sunny smiled, "This here", he waved around, indicating the classroom, "Was just a welcome change. Of course, I didn't expect your charming self to be here", he kissed Harry's hand, "If your husband can get a reign on his jealousy, I would really like to reciprocate for your help, Harry", Voldemort growled warningly at him and the vampire backed away slightly, though he didn't really seem to feel threatened as he smiled disarmingly at the Dark Lord, "Harry is absolutely safe from me, Voldemort, I won't hurt him and I won't seduce him. Harry is bonded to you and every vampire would respect that. Besides, I caught the most enticing scent in this castle."

"You found your mate?", Harry said jubilantly and hugged him, "What did they look like. Tell me, please?"

"Well, he's male, tall, brown hair, broad shoulders and he smells like black tea", the vampire described with a dreamy smile, "You wouldn't be able to help me find him, Harry?"

"Of course", Harry smiled, "And I already have a fairly good guess who your mate could be."

"You still have classes", Tom interrupted, pulling him back into his own arms, "And you need to eat something. Why are you still here, anyway?", he glared at the students who watched them interestedly, "I have no desire to be accused of kidnapping you or denying you food. Read and summarise chapter four and now go!"

The students scattered displeasedly, packing their things as slowly as they could get away with, and finally shuffled out, leaving Tom, Sunny, Harry, Blaise and Draco (they had not even lifted a finger) and Ron, who had stayed as well after a bit of hesitation, alone in the classroom.

"What are you still doing here?", Tom asked in annoyance.

"We're waiting for Harry", Blaise shrugged his shoulders, "Can't let him walk alone, now, can we?"

Tom growled disgruntledly- this was not his day! First he had to talk Dumbledore into allowing a vampire into Hogwarts, then Harry had come late to his lesson. And not any lesson, but a very interesting lesson, he had been positive Harry, would find this one interesting. And who was the cause of this? Right, Dumbledore! And now this stupid vampire, whom he had previously thought to be rather nice and intelligent, was hitting on Harry, who of course was totally unaware of that.

He jerked from his thoughts as the frail body in his arms suddenly went limp and grew heavier since Harry's legs had given out under him. He cursed in Parseltongue as he gingerly lowered his black-haired husband to the floor, bedding his head in his lap. Harry had fainted.

"Shit, Draco, there's a potion in the pocket of my robe", he pointed at the hanger and the blond sprinted over and began rummaging through his pockets.

"What is the matter?", the vampire was checking his pulse and for the first time his voice was free from amusement, "Is he sick?"

"No, pregnant", Voldemort snapped, as Draco dropped to his knees next to him and dribbled some of the potion into Harry's mouth, "Shh, lay still, you'll feel better soon", he soothed brushing away some of the inky strands as Harry's groaned and tried to curl up "You should have told me something."

No-one took notice of the red-head who had gracelessly collapsed on the floor in a dead faint, his mouth still wide open.

"But you were so angry", Harry mumbled and pulled his knees to his chest, "And I don't understand."

"No, you wouldn't", Tom murmured lowly and kissed Harry's temple, realising that he had lost control of his emotions, "If you're feeling better, why don't you go to your classes, hm? And afterwards you can help Thymus find his mate, okay?"

"Okay", Harry slowly smiled at him and he found his heart warm, "We should go then. See you later."

"Yes, kitten", he kissed him very chastely on the lips, "Grab something to eat before class, please."

Harry nodded and gently shook Ron back to consciousness, telling him in soothing tones that he would explain everything later and, huddling into his robes, left the room with the two Slytherin boys and a very pale looking Weasley in tow.

"Before you start threatening me and telling me to keep away from Harry, let me make something plain to you", the vampire casually leaned against one of the walls, "As I said before he's safe. He's not my mate and he doesn't want me, Voldemort. To me he will always be the child who saved my life, the sweet, little human, who cared about me first and showed me that fear is a weakness you can overcome. It's not me you should be worried about- if someone makes you lose him, it will be yourself."

"I hate it when people tell me things I already know", Tom grumbled, "And for your information: I wasn't going to tell you to stay away from Harry."

"Knock, knock", Tom couldn't hold back the groan when the headmaster sauntered into his classroom, "I was wondering if you had time for a talk, Tom. You see, there are certain matters that need to be addressed and I fear you will not like them", the grin was threatening to split his face, "Solomon, why don't come along as well? I'm almost certain that I still have some blood drops in my office..."

"Whatever it is, will have to wait, Dumbledore", he sneered, turning his back on the old wizard, "I have a class to teach."

"Severus was so nice to offer to take over your classes", Dumbledore sweetly smiled at him, "Until we have settled everything. Come along, boys", he clapped his hands merrily- this would definitely work and Harry would be his again.

He cackled evilly as he led the two dark-haired men to his office. He had been rather worried, in hindsight he could admit that, when Harry had been so snappish towards him, but this had turned out to be only raging teenage hormones, mixed with the supposed loss of that mutt (he really should look to that- Black clearly had a bad influence on Harry) and pubescent rebelliousness and now he had come crawling back to him, ever the faithful little toy. And he was begging to be saved from the evil Lord Voldemort. And when he did, he would be the boy's hero. Harry would kill Voldemort (of course with his enormous help), he would throw him into Azkaban for murder and then his kingdom may come! Sometimes, he wondered if all geniuses were as clever as he was...

"Take a seat, boys", Dumbledore waved to the two squashy armchairs in front of his desk, "Ah, I knew I still had them, blood drop, Solomon? Or would you maybe prefer a lemon drop?", the vampire shook his head to both offers with a mildly disgusted frown on his face, "What about you, Tom? Tea? Lemon drop?"

"Come to the point, Dumbledore", Tom snarled, "As you're already sabotaging my work, I would rather you don't take up more of my time."

"Oh, well, you see, my boy", the headmaster leaned back, put his fingers together and let a superior smile grace his features, which he knew would irritate the Dark Lord even further, "It has come to my attention that Harry spends awfully lot of his time in the infirmary, so naturally I investigated and what I found out causes me to think that you abuse the darling boy."

"I'm not abusing him", Tom growled, pressing his hands flat on the desk and leaning over, "And Harry is spending his time with Madam Pomfrey because she offered to teach him the basics of healing. So if that was all..."

"As long as I'm not completely assured that Harry is indeed treated well, I'm obliged to investigate further in order to ensure Harry's safety. The matter isn't off the table yet, Tom", Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, "If you're abusing your power over him it is considered a crime and a break of the contract. You do understand that Harry is still a minor and therefore still in my custody, don't you? Now, of course, if I'm only hallucinating as old men are prone, too, there's nothing for you to be worried about. I arranged for a healer, specialised in the care of children to come by tomorrow to check him for any signs of abuse. His assessment will be proof either for or against you and we will go from there. Until then you as well as all of your servants or their children are forbidden by decree of the Minister for Magic to contact him in any way as well as all of your servants or their children. If you want to see it..."

Tom's answer was to set the offending paper on fire: "You should enjoy this moment because it'll be the last resemblance of triumph you will ever feel."

With that he stormed out of the room, banging the door.

"Quite a temper", Dumbledore chuckled before he turned to the vampire, "Now I heard you were negotiating with Tom on which side the vampires will fight. I'm sure our side will offer you much more..."

"Excuse me, Headmaster", Sunny stood as well, "But the vampires already chose a side. Our position is no longer negotiable."

"Oh, I do hope, you made the right decision, my dear boy", the old wizard smiled charmingly at him, "The Dark Side is not known for its gratefulness towards its allies."

"That would be why we didn't chose that side", the vampire turned towards the door, "We chose to support a friend of ours and whether he be dark or light, we will fight for him."

With that he walked out and down the spiralling staircase, leaving a slightly confused but overall pleased headmaster behind.

"You have to warn, Harry", Sunny was roughly grabbed and pulled into an alcove, "No-one is supposed to know about the pregnancy."

"I was planning to tell him, anyway", the vampires said calmly, "Anything else you want him to know?"

"I will contact Lucius, who will hopefully be able to prevent this", Tom relaxed slightly after he found such a willing ally, "Then I will speak with Madam Pomfrey and try to persuade her to do the examination. Tell him that he shouldn't worry too much and give him those, he might need them."

"Okay", Sunny nodded as he accepted the three little bottles, "I will look out for him."

Tom nodded sharply before he purposefully strode towards Severus' private chambers to make a Floo call. Dumbledore would pay for this and Fudge would soon realise why you shouldn't be messing with the big guys!

He angrily hissed the password to the portrait of Salazar Slytherin that guarded Severus' rooms and his ancestor admitted him entrance. It was surprisingly messy, he surveyed, which normally meant that Severus was trying very hard to develop a new potion or improve an old one and had left numerous parchments with recipes, ingredient lists and diagrams in various places all around the room, but he admitted to himself that Severus' mind worked in ways he couldn't track and so just walked to the fireplace and, throwing Floo powder into the small flames, shouted "Malfoy Manor" and disappeared.

"Mylord", Narcissa, who had previously enjoyed a cup of fine Costa Rican coffee and the newest edition of The Modern Witch, asked, surprised, making Lucius look up from his papers, "We didn't expect you. Is Harry alright?"

"At the moment he still is", Tom gratefully sat down on the sofa and accepted a cup of coffee, "But Dumbledore decided that I was abusing him, got the Minister to ban me and all Death Eaters from contact with him and ordered that he be examined by a healer tomorrow."

"We can't allow that", Lucius stated at once, "Who exactly is involved and what exactly are you accused of?"

"Dumbledore and Fudge, maybe Pomfrey but I doubt that", Tom answered, "Dumbledore only said that he suspects me of abusing my power over Harry, whatever that means."

"With what right does he interfere in your relationship?", Narcissa asked, "Did Harry maybe ask for his help?"

"He and Harry did have a talk earlier this morning, but I doubt very much that Harry thinks I'm abusing him or that he would go to Dumbledore with it", Tom sighed, "And Dumbledore said that Harry was still a minor and still his charge."

"What about last Saturday?", Lucius remarked, "He did sound rather desperate to get away from you. If Dumbledore takes that as evidence for his theory and the healer is nit-pick, then that could be taken as emotional abuse."

"I know", Tom sighed, "We have to do something."

"Okay", Lucius got up resolutely, "We'll visit the Minister first and try to lift that ban. Narcissa, darling, could you maybe visit Madam Pomfrey and ask her what she knows about this?"

The blonde witch nodded and after fetching her cloak flooed to Hogwarts.

"Are you coming, Tom?", Lucius stood with the Floo powder in his hand, "We won't let them take Harry."

"What if I am?"

"What if you're what?", the blond asked confusedly, startled as pained red eyes looked up at him: "What if I am abusing Harry, what if he wants to be taken away from me?"

"Now you listen to me, Tom", Lucius returned fiercely, "If you don't want to fight for Harry, fine, but I will, because it's degrading to have someone totally unknown examine you for signs of abuse. I don't think Dumbledore actually believes that **you** abused him, but still this healer will touch him in the most private of places. They will look for signs of rape, they will completely humiliate him and whatever it is they will find- there will be no medical confidentiality for Harry. And if you let that happen to Harry you're not the man I took you for. You're the father of his child and if you want to take the coward's way out of your responsibility you're no longer welcome in my house. So either you come with me now and show Harry that you really love him or you leave my property immediately."

Tom walked over to the fireplace: "I guess it was a stupid question."

Lucius smirked, congratulating himself on a job well done, before he followed his Lord.

Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, despite doing everything to prove that fact wrong, was not brainless. For example he knew that his days as the Minister were numbered, he also knew that his wife cheated on him, that he was no-one's first choice for this job, that he had little or no say in what was going on, that his secretary made a lot of private Floo calls, that the only reason why he hadn't been assassinated yet was the fact that no-one took him seriously, that he was several pounds too heavy, that the neighbour's cat had most likely eaten his owl, that Dumbledore was not the nice old man everyone thought him to be, that, everything considered, he was a hypocrite at the best, that his mother didn't make her cakes herself. And he knew that when one very pissed off Dark Lord in the company of a very rich Lucius Malfoy stormed into your office, it was time to cover in fear and to curse Albus Dumbledore.

"There's nothing I can do about the ban", he pleaded after Voldemort had insulted him profusely and told him what to do, "The law was passed this morning... by the Wizengamot."

"You made a law that forbids the Dark Lord to go near his husband?", Lucius asked incredulously, idly twirling his wand between his fingers.

"No", he was sweating and his hand was blue, from where he had knocked over his ink well when they entered, "The law states that children that are suspected of being abused are to be removed from the care of the ones that are suspected of abusing them until a healer has delivered their verdict", he read from the paper in front of him, which held his signature as well of the other members of the Wizengamot.

"So there's nothing that forbids me to speak with Harry", Lucius clarified.

"Actually...", he nervously tugged a damp strand of his thinning brown hair behind his ear, "It was decided that all Death Eaters are also considered as a threat to Mr. Potter...you have to understand, the boy-who-lived, this is a special case."

"You promised that boy to me", the Dark Lord hissed at him, "Surely, you also took into account that this marriage might not be very pleasant for him and now your conscience is pricking at you? You better have some good news now or... I'm sure your imagination is supplying you with possible alternatives", his eyes seemed to spit fire and Fudge was very willing to believe that he wouldn't die within the next hour- whatever he choose.

"The accusation has already been brought in", he hastened to continue as the Dark Lord set the portrait of his predecessor on fire (a man, if he remembered correctly, who had been killed during the First War), looking for all the world like he was debating if an umbrella would be commendable for his afternoon walk- this impassiveness was even more scaring than the outright fury earlier and he could feel his trousers getting wet, "But... but you can choose another healer, one of your choice..."

"Madam Pomfrey", Tom said immediately, knowing that Harry trusted her, but the other man squeaked in fear as he shook his head and with it shook his whole body: "It needs to be a fully trained healer, not a nurse... There's nothing else I can do, really."

He could see the contempt in their eyes, the disgust, as he feebly hoped they would spare his life.

"You will cancel the arrangement with the healer Dumbledore wanted", Voldemort finally concluded, "You will wait for us to notify you of the substitute. You will appoint them without delay or conferring with anyone else. You will have this examination at 10 am sharp. You will not move Harry from the castle. And you will not speak to anyone of this little discussion, understood, Squib?"

"Yes, yes, I swear, I'll do anything", he also knew, he sounded pathetic.

Half an hour after they were gone he still sat slumped in his normally very comfortable chair, with his trousers wet, and shivering in remembrance of cold red eyes and a cruel smirk. Two hours later he received a short letter, if you could call it that:

_Damian Lojack, junior healer at St. Mungo's. No objections..._


	46. BestKept Secrets

**Disclaimer: Surprise! Surprise! Harry Potter doesn't belong to me, nor does Tom, nor any of the other characters (except Sunny, he's all mine #puffs out chest#)...**

**Author's Note: Sorry, it took me so long, but firstly I had a lot of work to do and secondly, the alerts and stuff are/were down again (I had to try three times before I could finally upload this chapter).**

**But, there are also some good news: Firstly the first lemon (chapter 17) can now also be found on AFF, secondly the truth finally comes out (yay!) and thirdly I already wrote the next chapter (just need to spell-check it) so if you respond accordingly to my blackmail (see below) you will have the next chapter soon enough...

* * *

**

**46. BEST-KEPT SECRETS**

Tom was pacing. He was cursing. He was hissing. He was worrying. He was pacing (and everything else) in front of the closed doors of a private room in the hospital wing and if he hadn't been to worried he might have remembered a similar situation one and a half month ago.

Madam Pomfrey stood to the side, staring out of a near-by window and muttering displeasedly under her breath at the impudence of throwing her out of her own infirmary.

Severus, Lucius and Narcissa stood in a small circle. Lucius had put an arm around his wife's shoulders, apparently trying to calm her down. Severus was glaring at the closed door.

Sunny casually leaned against the wall, though his shoulders were tense and if you looked closely you could see his pearly white fangs flashing from time to time at Dumbledore, who had conjured up a high-backed yellow armchair and was sucking lemon drops, whistling a happy tune, whilst Professor McGonagall's face showed real concern for those who were able to penetrate her mask.

Fudge was fiddling his bowler as he tried to have a semi-normal conversation with Amelia Bones, who was tapping her foot nervously And clutched a official looking folder.

Tom didn't know why he had agreed to let the werewolf examine Harry. All he knew was that Harry liked him, trusted him to a degree and that he could easily crush the werewolf should he start sprouting lies. Narcissa had suggested it. Lucius had agreed. And he didn't have a better suggestion.

The young healer had seemed duteous, professional when he had signed his name under the statement on oath that he would report should their be signs of abuse on Harry but he had also seen the gleam of hope that had flashed in Harry's eyes as he had been brought here by his Head of House.

He had looked pale and nervous and he could see him shivering as everyone stared at him as if they were trying to look through his clothes. They hadn't been allowed to talk and McGonagall had pushed him resolutely into the room, he was still in now. After three hours.

Draco, Blaise, Ron, Neville and Luna had come by in every break so far, but Dumbledore had refused to give them the day off. Granger and the Weasley girl were here though, they stood next to the headmaster, looking smug and utterly pleased, like the old coot himself. They had been dubbed moral support. They were both prefects after all, they were both from Harry's house and they both couldn't stand the small boy, but that was a minor matter and Dumbledore didn't seem to care that his arguments were faulty at best. Even McGonagall had looked cross when the two girls were allowed to be absent from classes today, though Tom wasn't sure if she maybe was just worried about their education.

Rudolphus and Rabastan had also been denied access for fear that so many Death Eaters would make it impossible for them to retrieve Harry should the accusation turn out to be true. No-one expected them to turn against their Lord, though Tom knew they would do so in a blink of an eye if he really had abused the green-eyed boy.

The door opened suddenly, quietly and slowly at first, before it was harshly jerked open and a whirlwind of midnight-black hair, desperate green eyes, and pale, tear-stained cheeks rushed out and threw himself in his arms: "Don't hate me, please, don't hate me."

The small bundle sobbed again and again as he carefully took the crying boy in his arms and wrapped his own cloak around him to ward of the curious looks and the chill that Harry alone seemed to be able to feel: "I don't hate you, precious, I never will. You're safe now, no-one will take you away from me again, lovely."

"Ah, Damian, what is your verdict?", Dumbledore exclaimed cheerfully, "Did you find signs of abuse."

"Yes, I did", the young healer answered gravely and while Tom's eyes snapped up to the healers, three pairs of angry eyes turned to him.

"Then, why is Harry hugging **him**?", the Weasley girl sneered with obvious disgust, "Did he feed him some kind of Control Potion?"

Severus snorted at the red-head's stupidity, not interrupting his angry staring at the Dark Lord.

"As I said there are signs of abuse on Harry", repeated the werewolf, "But they are old, some over ten years. There was no sign whatsoever that would support the assumption that Mr. Riddle was abusing his husband."

"Harry?", Tom gently lifted the small boy's head as everyone else descended into a shocked silence, "Who did this to you?", Harry shook his head, he sobbed, he begged, he clung to him, he trembled, "This doesn't change anything Harry", he assured him, gently caressing his cheek, "But please tell me. I already have a fairly good guess, but I want to hear it from you."

/My aunt and my uncle/, Harry sniffed/Don't be mad. I'm sorry. Please, don't hurt me./

/Hush, is fine now, they can't hurt you here/, he carefully gathered the light boy in his arms, "You have your proof, Dumbledore, that I treated Harry better than you. Mark my words: You will pay for this."

"Tom?", Harry whimpered softly, interrupting his tirade, "I don't want to be alone."

"Shh, would you like your friends to come with us, little one?", Harry nodded weakly and he motioned for his Death Eaters, Narcissa, the vampire and the werewolf to follow him.

Granger and Weasley attempted to follow them at Dumbledore's beck but Sunny blocked their way, his claws and teeth lengthening and they ran in the opposite direction. The vampire smirked, satisfied and easily caught up with the others.

"I gave him one of Madam Pomfrey's calming potions earlier", the werewolf explained as Harry suddenly went limp in his arms, "The stress most likely caused him to fall asleep."

They walked in silence. Tom was sure it looked disturbingly similar to a funeral procession, but besides them there was no-one around to categorise their behaviour and he was too worried about the small human bundle in his arms to give a damn.

/Troublemakers/, he hissed the password and the stones formed the small archway to let them through.

Lucius went in first and removed some things from the sofa- a book on male pregnancies, a quill and some spare parchment- and Tom gently lowered his precious burden onto it, tucking a pillow under Harry's head and spreading a blanket over him, before he sat down on the floor near Harry's head and began to lightly stroke one delicate hand.

"Who was the twat who did this to him?", Narcissa demanded to know after everyone had found a seat.

"His relatives", he finally asked softly, not looking away from Harry's wet face, "You all knew, didn't you?"

"Well, I didn't", Narcissa huffed and glared at Lucius, "Since a certain husband of mine didn't deem it necessary to tell me."

"I promised him not to tell anyone", Lucius stated calmly, "Besides, he didn't want any help."

"But he obviously needed help", Narcissa hissed back and hit him over the head, "Really, sometimes you're just dumb."

"I don't even think that Black knows", Severus interrupted, "He doesn't want anyone's help, Narcissa. He doesn't want anyone to worry about him and if we had gone against his wishes, he would have shut us out completely."

"Then how come he told you?", Tom asked evenly, still with most of his attention focussed on the sleeping boy.

"When we went to fetch his things from there I found the fat Muggle beating and kicking him in the hallway", Lucius clenched his hands as if he would like to wring them around his neck, "He was unconscious, but when he woke up and had calmed down he begged me not to bring him to a hospital or back to Hogwarts and to not tell anyone. I agreed under the condition that he took all the potions I thought necessary."

"He showed me one of his memories to make up for prying in my pensieve last year", Severus revealed, "I didn't give a promise to keep it to myself, but I have grown to respect and care about him and those memories were rather private."

"Didn't you wonder what a six-year old boy was doing in a cave, in a forest, all alone?", Sunny spoke up, "I was so worried about him because he had bruises covering every part of his body, two rips were cracked and his hands were burnt. And guess what he had done to warrant such a punishment? Their eggs were too brown for their liking."

"Oh, the poor boy", Narcissa gushed, previous anger forgotten, and grabbed Lucius hand, "How can someone do something like this to such a sweet child?"

"I'm more worried about what else they did to him", Tom said very lowly, shooting a quick look over his shoulder to where the werewolf had taken his seat.

"From what I found", Damian said very slowly as if the words were hurting his throat, "Almost every bone in his body was broken at one time, most never saw any medication. I think it was mostly Harry himself who mended his bones with accidental magic. He was starved, which would be the reason he still has problems with eating normal portions of food. His chest and his back are littered with scars like someone whipped him repeatedly and cut him with a knife..."

"I never saw any scars", Tom furrowed his brow, looking up from his husband, and stared at the werewolf.

"The scars are not really there", the healer amended, "They were treated with a healing potion that also got rid of the scars. You need a spell to make them visible."

At that moment there was a knock at the door and at Tom's beck Severus went to investigate who was there. The Potion's Master got quite a shock as he opened the door, since not only Blaise and Draco, like he expected, were impatiently waiting for him to step aside, but also Ron, Neville, Luna, Madam Pomfrey and his colleague Professor McGonagall. This last guest, he really hadn't reckoned on and he was sure that if he hadn't had many years as a spy to improve his mask, he would have gaped at her. So, however, he quietly moved aside and let all of them enter.

"Minerva, I didn't expect you", Tom said still not moving from his position on the floor.

"Well, it seems like we're all in for some unpleasant surprises today", the Head of Gryffindor said briskly and conjured up a simple chair to sit on, "Don't let me interrupt you. I'll just be waiting for Harry to wake up."

Tom couldn't for the life of him muster up the strength for a glare and instead turned back to the small form on the sofa. That Lovegood girl had sat down next to him and unblinkingly observed the slight up and down of her friend's chest while Longbottom said next to her and chewed his bottom lip. Weasley was leaning over the back of the sofa, looking down with horrified eyes at the limp body. Draco sat next to his mother, who had a death grip on him, terrified by the thought her only son could have been in the same position as Harry. Blaise sat near Harry's feet at the arm of the black sofa.

"What is wrong with Harry, Professor?", Neville interrupted the silence, "You didn't do... something to him, did you?"

"No, Mr. Longbottom", he sighed, "For once I'm not responsible."

"There's a first time for everything", Madam Pomfrey murmured.

"Did you know?", Severus asked the nurse.

"It was blatantly obvious", Madam Pomfrey grumbled, "But I for one respect the privacy of my patients and Mr. Potter, clearly wanted to deal with it on his own terms", she briefly glared at the werewolf, who just returned the look evenly, before she turned back to look at her most frequent patient.

"Did you give him the potion to heal his scars?", Lucius asked, picking-up their earlier topic.

"I healed his wounds when he first came to me with them at beginning of his second year", she answered honestly, "Since then he never came to me unless it was an emergency or someone else brought him in. I always gave him some general healing potions when he came back, though, and he never complained."

"Didn't he write that he brewed potions at Simon's?", Blaise asked and Draco nodded, "Figures, that he would brew a potion that kept his home life hidden."

"So you knew, too", Tom remarked, mildly irritated, but mostly hurt.

"Yes", Draco nodded, "That was when he was so upset and thought we would hate him. He showed us his diary- not everything, but enough to get the general picture. Mum, you're hurting me!"

"Maybe that'll teach you not to keep secrets from your own mother", she snapped, "Why is it that no-one bothers to inform me of something like this? But why do I care? One day maybe you'll decide to get married or one of you has an accident, but of course there will be no need to tell me. You know that's totally okay, I mean I'm only your mother, why would I care?"

"Narcissa, darling, why don't you calm down?", Lucius suggested, ignoring the furious look he received, "We all are worried about Harry."

"You have a nice way of showing it", the blonde retorted, crossing her arms over her chest, and proceeded to ignore both blond wizards.

"How much of an impact did the abuse leave on Harry's health?", Tom asked when he was sure that none of the Malfoys would interrupt him.

"Well, as I said before, he most likely never will be able to eat normally. His bones will break more easily because they were mended with magic only. I have the assumption that he suffers headaches, abdominal cramps, hypersensitivity and enormous blood loss if only slightly wounded because his blood thinned out since he had to replenish so much of it. If he wasn't such a powerful wizard he wouldn't have survived a year in their **care**", the werewolf said gravely, "There's no way to tell the emotional damage as long as he isn't willing to talk about it."

"Show me the scars", Tom demanded and carefully freed Harry's chest from the blanket and then started to unbutton his shirt, "I want to see what kind of painful death those monsters deserve."

Damian only hesitated a moment before he kneeled down next to the Dark Lord and ran his wand over Harry's chest, murmuring the incantation under his breath. A soft green light emitted from the tip of his wand, revealing old scars. There were so many that at first sight Tom thought the spell hadn't worked for it looked like the skin had just turned to white, but then he realised that it actually was a fine net of thin, white scars. Some were straight, starting at one side and ending at the other, but others criss-crossed and branched out so often that it was hard to tell when one ended and another one began. Across the chest was also written one single word in bolt, big letters: FREAK. The lines were so thick that he was sure that someone had traced the letters repeatedly, steadily carving deeper.

"Shit", he cursed, moving a hand to trace the F, feeling nothing but smooth skin.

The werewolf stopped the spell and Tom carefully buried his head in Harry's chest to hide the tears that slowly rolled down his cheeks. He always thought his childhood had been unpleasant; there was even a time when he had prided himself on that fact, that he had survived and grown stronger than before, than anyone else for that matter. And here was Harry, whose childhood had been much worse and who, despite this, hadn't become bitter, but tried his best to make others feel better, who had worked so hard to be seen as something, anything. To be loved unconditionally for himself and not for his fame or his powers. He felt suddenly arms tighten around his head, felt finger bury deep within his hair, felt the body under him twist till it was curled up around him.

And then there was frantic and choked whispering at his ear: "I'm sorry, don't be mad, please, I'm sorry. Please, don't hate me, please. I'm sorry, don't hurt me..."

"Shh, you're safe, it's okay now", he gently pulled Harry, who still had his head buried in the crook of his neck, in his lap and began to rock him slightly, "I'm not angry, no-one is. And I will not allow that anyone ever hurts you again, sweetie. Shh, calm down."

"I am so stupid", Harry clutched to him, "I'm sorry, don't leave me, please. I should have known, it was a bad idea", Harry looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, "He was always looking at me. I wanted it to stop, I'm sorry."

"Who was, little one?", he asked concernedly, having no idea what Harry was talking about.

"Dumbledore", the small boy sobbed, "I thought if he trusted me again he would stop. I didn't know this would happen. I'm sorry..."

"I don't like it when he stares at me either", he replied very gently and tilted Harry's head upward with one of his fingers.

Harry's eyes were huge and his long lashes were wet and stuck together, causing him to look even younger as he hesitantly smiled up at the Dark Lord: "Don't leave me", he whispered pleadingly.

"Never", Tom answered with conviction and carefully settled them both on the sofa, allowing Harry to cuddle even closer, tenderly brushing away the tears that rolled down his cheeks, "See, all better now."

Harry gave a watery laugh: "Thank you."

"Mr. Potter", Professor McGonagall had moved from her chair and now sat on the coffee table- a sight Harry thought he'd never see, "I want to apologise. As your Head of House I should have seen or at least shown more interest in your home life. All that I can say is that I was deceived by Dumbledore's words and that it won't happen again. I don't expect you to say I'm forgiven because I can never forgive myself for leaving one of my students when he needed my help. And, Mr. Potter, you do need help, though I'm not sure I'm the one to provide it. But I want you to know that I intend to always be there for you, should you one day decide that you want my help."

"Thanks, Professor", Harry said softly.

"Just keep it in mind, Mr. Potter", she returned briskly, "I also would suggest that you not sleep in the Gryffindor tower anymore. Now that Mr. Longbottom is leaving, I don't think it advisable for you to sleep in a house, where your friends are a clear minority. I may be Head of Gryffindor, but there's only so much I can do to protect you", she got up, brushing down her robes, "That is not to say that you are not welcome, I just think you will be safer if you are surrounded by friends. My office will always be open for you, Mr. Potter. Oh, and Miss Lovegood, Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Zabini, don't forget your afternoon classes."

She nodded curtly at Severus and the Dark Lord before she made her leave, not giving Harry the time to answer.

"I didn't know you planned to leave, Longbottom", Blaise looked at the still slightly chubby boy, "Where are you going?"

"America", Neville blushed lightly, "My parents thought it would be a good way to start over. I'll be leaving next Friday."

"What about Lovegood?", Malfoy butted in, "You give up everything you have here, why?"

"I don't think you would understand, Malfoy", Neville said calmly, "Besides, it's only for this year until they have adjusted- I'll most likely return for seventh year."

"And you know once Neville found the portal, which connects Salem with Hogwarts, we can see each other regularly", Luna declared dreamily, ignoring the weird looks she received, "We should go by the way, Hagrid said this lesson would be really exceptional. I wonder if he procured a Jobberknoll, what do you think?"

"We'll see", Neville murmured before he lent down and cautiously hugged the green-eyed boy, "You call us when you need us and we'll be there in a minute, okay?"

Harry nodded tearfully, clinging to the taller boy a moment longer before letting him go.

"I wish I had a Soteria for you", Luna said pensively, "We will look for one or maybe ask Hagrid..."

"Thank you, Luna."

"Ah, hogwash, Harry", she dragged Neville over to the door, "I'm sure it would help you", and she and Neville were gone.

"What is a Soteria?", Draco asked.

"I have no idea", Harry confessed, "But I would guess it's some kind of animal."

"Whatever", Draco slowly got up and walked over to the small boy, "We have to go, too, but will be back after classes, alright?"

"Thank you."

"And there will always be a bed for you in Slytherin, just remember that", Blaise added and ruffled his hair.

"I will go as well and look if I can find Tanea", the young werewolf got up, "But, Harry, I really think you should go to a specialist on male pregnancies, who has more experience in this department."

"She has History of Magic now", Harry said softly.

The werewolf nodded in thanks and left with the two Slytherins, gently closing the door behind him, while Ron still stood frozen in place, staring as if petrified at the place Harry had previously rested.

"Ron?", Harry asked cautiously, "Are you alright?"

"I didn't believe you", the redhead whispered, refusing to meet Harry's eyes, "It's my fault."

"It's not, Ron", Harry argued.

"I knew you weren't happy there..."

"That doesn't say anything, Ron. You complained a lot, too, remember?"

"Merlin, I'm sorry", Ron moaned painedly.

"Would you stop this already?", Harry pleaded, "Yes, maybe you should have believed me, but I only said that they locked me in a cupboard that's nothing serious..."

"But it was obviously serious...", Ron almost shouted, making Harry wince, "Shit, Harry, why didn't you tell someone?"

"Because that only sounds easy when it's not happening to you, Ron", Harry whispered, "Can't you understand?"

"Of course I do, Harry", Ron gently pulled the crying boy in his arms, glaring at Voldemort when he wouldn't let go, "You're my best friend, of course I understand. I should have believed you."

"It's okay", Harry mumbled, snuggling back into Tom, "You should go to classes. I don't want you to get suspended."

Ron grumbled displeasedly, but got up nonetheless: "I'll be back as soon as possible."

They had barely settled back down when there was another persistent knocking on the door. Madam Pomfrey got up, muttering something about having no idea what she was there for, anyway, opened the door and was pushed aside by two muscular brunettes.

"Hmpf, I see, I'm no longer needed", she scowled, "Mr. Potter, you're excused from lessons for the next two days and, Professor Riddle, I fully expect you to bring him over in the morning for a check-up."

Harry's view on the annoyed nurse was blocked by two strong bodies, who both tried to hug him at the same time until they came to the conclusion that that wouldn't work and so contented themselves with taking turns. Rudolphus, being the older was the first to sweep him in a strong embrace, lifting him a little out of Tom's lap before carefully letting him down again.

As Rabastan hugged the small boy in much the same matter, someone growled from out of the shadows, soon followed by a menacing hiss, causing all the adults to pull their wands and blindly point it in the general direction.

"Sunny", Harry took one of Rabastan's broad hands, using it to stand up slowly and with a lot of swaying, "Meet your mate, Rabastan Lestrange."

"What are you talking about?", the young Death Eater asked in confusion, "Who are you talking to for that matter?"

"That would be me", the vampire called back the shadows that had enveloped him earlier and bowed lightly before stepping closer, "Solomon Thymus and you would be my mate", he grabbed Rabastan's free hand and kissed it with a roguish smile.

"But..."

"But this is neither the right place nor the right time", Sunny interrupted him, nodding as if Rabastan had been the one to say it in the first place, "For now you should only know that we're destined to be with each other and that I will woo you until you give in to my undeniable charm", he smirked confidently before sitting down on one of the beanbags, "Although I don't mind you staring at me, Rabastan, I was under the impression that you came here to see Harry."

Rabastan swivelled around to the boy, who was still holding his hand, and embraced him once more: "Merlin, Harry, we were so worried. No-one told us anything till McGonagall came and said that the situation was worse than anyone expected and that we should go and look after you or she would wring our necks. You know that threat isn't very impressive at all, but the fact that she was threatening us was. Since when is she on our side, anyway? I always thought... well, actually I avoided thinking about her relationship with Dumbledore, but that doesn't make it any less disturbing... Are you alright, Harry, they didn't find anything, did they? And that werewolf kept shut about the pregnancy, right? Could you say something?"

"Ehm, I'm fine", Harry tried feebly as Rabastan stopped his babbling and sank onto the couch next to him, but no-one was ready to accept that answer: "No, Harry, stop with the lies", Tom looked at him with such seriousness that it made him shiver, "You're not fine, you're not okay. An hour ago you were crying and you were begging and apologising and I want to know why. I want to know why you deem it necessary to hide something like this not only from me, but your other friends as well. Tell me what made you break down like this."

Harry flinched back as he tried to pull him in his lap again, wrapping his arms around his stomach in a protective gesture: "He said... Damian said that with how things are I will probably die giving birth- if I don't lose the baby sooner."

"I won't let you die, Harry."

"And what if I do, Tom", Harry cried, staring at him accusingly, "What will happen to the child? Tell me! This child will not go to an orphanage or stay with someone who doesn't love it!"

"But I'll love that child, Harry", he tried to reason.

"And what if my child is a squib, Tom, what will you do then?", Harry stared at him, "Just because they are of your blood doesn't mean that you will love them. And do you really think, they would allow you to keep my child, Tom? I know what you will say: That you'll fight for them and that no-one will take your child away from you. But if you spent all the time fighting and arguing and protecting this child, who will be there to really love them, Tom? I don't want this child to turn out like you or me...", Harry whispered the last part, huge tears splaying over his cheeks.

"What is so wrong with you, Harry, dear?", Narcissa asked gently, realising that to convince Harry of Tom's love for his child would be almost impossible, "You're sweet and caring..."

"I'm afraid of touch", Harry hissed at her, "Every time someone touches me from behind I think it is my uncle. Every time someone is angry I think it was my fault. Every time I see a big man I think he will hit me. Every time I eat I feel like throwing it up again. Every time I sleep I can hear them insult me and scream at me and tell me what a freak I am. Every time I think of my parents the first thought that comes to my mind is that they were drunk and didn't want me anyway. Every time I feel love I feel so utterly disappointed because no-one will ever feel that way for me. Every time someone stares at me I think they know, they know how pathetic I am. Every time I see a cupboard I can hear the locks click shut and the creaks of the steps. Every time Tom touches me I can feel my uncle's hands all over me and I can feel him pound into me and all the pain and I can hear him whisper in my ear that he loves me and that I'm his little slut and that he found a use for me after all. And every single day I think that you will finally realise how disgusting I am... So don't tell me I turned out just fine...", Harry broke down sobbing. The last sentence had barely been understandable and Tom was at his side in the blink of an eye, once again sitting on the floor as he cradled the distraught boy in his arms.

"He raped you", he said more to himself than to Harry, thinking how he could have not noticed this, but Harry heard him and pulled away, shocked: "I thought you knew already."

"No, I didn't, sweetie", he determinedly pulled Harry back into his arms, "I would have never demanded that you sleep with me if I had known. But that doesn't change anything. I'm glad I know."

"Why do you still want to touch me?", Harry sniffed, "I'm dirty."

"You're not", he tenderly kissed the unruly head, "You're beautiful and this doesn't change my feelings for you, Harry. And I will show you until you eventually believe me. You will not die and I will love our child because it's a part of you and it will never experience what you had to go through, that's a promise, Harry. Can you believe me?"

"I'm just so scared, Tom", Harry whimpered, "I want this baby to be happy so badly and I'm not sure I can do that. Now, I don't even know if I will be there to tell them how much I love them."

"If something should happen to you, which won't happen, I will tell our child all about you and how much you love it", Tom promised, "And you can write letters, saying everything you want it to know and you can charm them so that they will be delivered at a certain time, Harry, and no-one will be able to interfere and you can support your baby through his or her whole life."

The green-eyed boy studied his eyes for a moment before flinging his arms around his neck and nuzzling the crook of is neck: "Thank you."

"Let's get up from the floor, okay?", he murmured back softly and could feel Harry nod against his neck.

"Are you angry with me because I didn't tell you?", Harry asked some time later.

"No, kitten", he tenderly brushed his lips over the Gryffindor's, "I'm a bit disappointed that you didn't tell me earlier, but mostly I just want to understand what goes on in that head of yours."

"When I first came to Hogwarts I honestly thought that what they did to me was right, that I deserved it", Harry started unsurely, "I looked it up in the library and when I was back with them I tried to tell them... I so hoped that this was all just a huge misunderstanding", he laughed self-deprecatingly, "It just got worse. I spoke with Dumbledore and pleaded with him so that he wouldn't send me back there, but he said I needed their **protection**. So I went back for yet another summer", he forced himself to continue, "After third year I threatened them with Sirius. It worked for a while, but then Uncle Vernon lost his temper and nothing happened- it went back to normal after that. Then Dudley found out and he helped me. And now I'm here."

Tom wiped away the tears, the only evidence of how much it had hurt Harry to tell them, and pulled him deeper into his arms, tucking his head under his chin after kissing it lightly: "You won't allow me to kill them very slowly or at least to torture them a little, will you?"

Harry shook his head, looking at him with pleading eyes. He sighed unhappily, but nodded and Harry let out a breath that teasingly puffed against his throat.

"Harry", Narcissa called gently and Harry's head snapped around to meet her worried blue eyes, "Did you tell Dumbledore what your relatives did to you?"

"My first Hogwarts letter was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs", Harry said bitterly, "I never told him everything, but he knows, he read my mind after the end of fifth year."

"That was why you stopped trusting him, wasn't it?", Tom prodded gently.

"I never wanted anyone to know because I was so afraid they would do nothing and Dumbledore did exactly that", he sniffed, trying to hold back tears, "I thought you would react like he did... I'm sorry."

"Did any of us react like you feared we would?", Severus asked in a voice that only a few people ever heard from him.

"No", Harry wildly shook his head, almost hitting Tom in the process, and then started blushing, "No, you didn't. Thank you."

"Dumbledore didn't do anything", Lucius said reasonably, "And still you insist, we shouldn't do anything, either. Where's the difference?"

"Well, you want to do something. You want to help me and you do."

"Harry, you must allow us to have some sort of revenge on your relatives", Rudolphus spoke up and the others nodded in agreement, "You can't allow them to get away with this."

"No, I know you can't understand it", Harry kneaded his hands in distress, "But they're still my family, the only blood family I have. They may not like me, but they were thrown into a situation they didn't chose and couldn't understand. They only did what they did because they feared me- I won't give them something to justify what they did. What good will it do, in any case? More deaths on conscience, more people who died because of me. They always treated Dudley very good, so they can't be all bad, right?"

"No-one died because of you", Voldemort stated furiously, "Don't blame yourself for things I did. It was I, who killed your parents and ordered Wormtail to kill that Hufflepuff. And your relatives brought it onto themselves. They don't deserve your mercy."

"You only want to kill them because it would make you feel better", Harry accused him quietly, "Not because of me. I don't need revenge and you can't undo what already happened. You just don't understand."

"You're right, we don't understand", Tom answered.

All around the rooms the others nodded their heads and Harry shrank into himself, thinking they would be mad at him.

Tom, who noted that behaviour first, began to whisper soft words into his ear: "I will tell you why we don't understand, Harry, and why we still will respect your wishes. You think with your heart and if you think someone needs help, well, then you will go on and give it to them without expecting anything in return. When you look at your relatives you don't see the cruel monsters everyone else sees, you see them as the victims, you see them as someone who needs help, you see the good in them, even though I fail to see anything that would fit that category. We can't understand that and we most likely never will, but we respect your decision, because we respect and care about you. So the Dursleys are safe. But should they ever touch you again or hurt you with their words I won't hesitate and call all the Death Eaters, letting them torture them however they see fit, okay?"

"I think I love you", Harry murmured in his ear, before he pulled back horrified and ducked his head, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry."

/Are you sure?/, Tom asked, a bit disappointed/Because I won't force my presence on someone who can't stand me./

/No, please, I... I care about you and I like you... a lot/, Harry reached out to him helplessly/I just don't know if this is love. Please, don't leave me./

/That's all I wanted to hear/, he carefully cupped Harry's face and lent down, kissing first the corner of his mouth, before nibbling his bottom lip, waiting for Harry to grant him entrance, and then lapped around the Harry's tongue, which reacted to his stroking and tipping/You take all the time you need to figure it out and once you know it, tell me, agreed?/

Harry nodded still a bit dazed from the kiss and the red-eyed man scooped him up in his arms: "Just don't blame yourself for my crimes, Harry. I can't undo anything, but I honestly regret it if only because I caused you harm and makes you feel bad... Let's get you to bed, alright?"

He carefully climbed the stairs up to their bedroom and changed Harry into his pyjamas with a swish of his wand, which caused Harry to flush embarrassedly. He chuckled lightly at this behaviour and pulled back the covers, waiting for Harry to crawl under them, before he tucked them around him, gently kissed the scarred forehead and handed him his teddy-bear.

"I don't want to be alone", Harry's small voice stopped him as he was nearly at the door and he turned back around, crouching down next to the tired boy: "Do you want me to stay or should I ask Narcissa to come up here? I'm sure she would love to mother you a little."

"I would like that", the green-eyed boy answered insecurely, not wanting to hurt Tom's feelings.

"I'll sent her up, okay?", he kissed Harry's forehead once again before leaving the room for good.

* * *

**Hello again! So this time, I came up with something else so that my dear faitful reviewers don't think I'm blackmailing them (though, I would be very happy if you reviewed, too): I want 10 people to review who haven't done so before and I know you are out there! **

**Come on, it's not that difficult, is it? You just have to press the button below and type something nice for me. I promise to answer and maybe I'll even answer your questions... **

**So, I'm waiting #taps her foot impatiently# and as soon as I get my ten new reviewers you'll get a new chapter (well, provided that I'm not sleeping at that time)...**


	47. Truth

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

**Author's Note: Don't kill me please, let me explain! I had the chapter written and I tried to upload it as soon as I got my ten new reviews- thanks, by the way, it wasn't that bad, was it?- but ffnet wouldn't let me and I really, really tried it all of yesterday and this morning it still didn't work, it still doesn't to be exact. But then I had this genius idea to export one of my old chapters, delete it and paste the new one in it and that's where we are now. **

**And I haven't replied to all of your reviews, yet, but I thought I should update before you get too impatient...**

**Well, anyway, this whole ordeal gave me the time to write some more, so if I get reviews, you'll get the next chapter soon enough...**

**

* * *

47. TRUTH...**

Down in the living room Severus filled the Lestranges in on what they had missed, making them crack their knuckles in anger, while Narcissa and Lucius talked in hushed voices and Sunny had moved his beanbag into a shadowy corner and seemed to be dozing lightly. After all he had spent all night watching over Harry, warding of a lecherous red-head and a jealous buck-teethed girl and even though his vampire being gave him more strength and stamina, he still needed to sleep and since he couldn't very well pounce his mate he let the pleasant scent of him lull him to sleep.

"Narcissa, could you maybe look after Harry?", Tom re-entered the room and sat back down on the sofa, "He doesn't want to be alone."

"Oh, the poor thing", she said sorrowfully and then went up to Harry, sat down next to him and started to tell him Draco's favourite bedtime story from when he was younger in a soft reassuring voice; Harry soon fell asleep, but she continued talking for a bit more before she just sat on the edge of the bed, wondering how someone could be so evil to hurt such a sweet child and what she and her family had done to be rewarded by someone so pure.

"We need to get rid of Dumbledore", Tom declared after he had collected himself, "I'm waiting for suggestions."

"It would be rather easy if we accused him of being accessory to child abuse and rape", Lucius said painedly, "But I don't think that a trial is what Harry needs right now."

Voldemort shook his head, dismissing that idea: "You expelled him four years ago, how did you do it?"

"Bribery, blackmail and other forms of cogency", the blond smirked self-satisfied before coming back to the matter at hand, "But I doubt it would work a second time. Also that demands time and that seems to be in short supply... But maybe if we started with Fudge first and then moved on? The Ministry already managed to control this school once before..."

"When are the elections?", Tom asked as his lips curved into a small smirk.

"21st of November", Lucius offered, "But I'm sure we could persuade Fudge to retire a bit earlier."

"Who are the candidates so far?", Severus asked.

"Rufus Scrimgeour, fifth generation pureblood, Ravenclaw, fighter, a bit manipulative and very ambitious. I think he has the best chances so far", trust Lucius to know such things, "Then there's Amelia Bones, was in Ravenclaw as well, very fair with high moral expectations. The people trust her, but she's too honest to be fit for politics. Dooley McLane, Muggleborn, rather young, no-one knows much about him, was in Hufflepuff. And surprisingly enough Percy Weasley, even more ambitious than Scrimgeour, but his age won't be seen as an advantage in most people's eyes. Though I guess if his whole family voted for him..."

"I think Weasley is our best chance", Tom concluded, "He's not on Dumbledore's leash, plus his family is known as light and pureblood. And he likes Harry. With the right support we can make him win."

"But, Mylord", Rudolphus asked carefully, "Don't you want to be Minister?"

"At the moment my first priority is Harry", Tom gave back evenly and Lucius once again had that infuriating smirk on his face, "Is there anything that would make Scrimgeour unsuitable for this job?"

"In my Sixth year there was a rumour about him killing his ex-girl-friend", Rabastan supplied, "She just disappeared overnight after they broke up. The common opinion at that time was that he had killed her, but I heard that he knocked her up, her father found out and moved her somewhere away from him, an Irish convent or something."

"Good, we can definitely use that", Tom said with new enthusiasm, "With the right support Weasley will be elected. We just have to convince him to play along."

"I'll do that", Lucius volunteered, "But there's something we have to offer him. I doubt that he'll just hand over his new power once he's the Minister."

"I don't expect him to", the red-eyed man shrugged, "As long as he doesn't work against us and helps to get Dumbledore out of Hogwarts, I'm content. We'll offer him the support of the Dark Order and all our allies. Hey, Thymus, where is that stupid vampire?"

"That stupid vampire, as you so aptly put it, is trying to sleep, Voldemort", the vampire growled displeasedly, cold violet eyes staring at him, "What do you want?"

"I want to know if you've chosen a side yet", Tom asked, not too impressed with the vampire's anger.

"Yes", Sunny smirked and turned his back on them again, "Now, if that was all..."

"Which side, Thymus?", Tom asked irritatedly.

"Harry", the vampire said over his shoulder, "My and my brother's clan will fight for Harry and him alone, if you are on his side, we are on the same side."

"Shouldn't you be on my side, if I'm your mate?", Rabastan inquired, not quite knowing what he should think of this new development.

"You are my mate and yes I will be on your side, but that doesn't go for my clan", he turned around to face the brown-haired man, "I owe Harry my life and what is more he values the life of everyone, regardless of race or blood. If we fight for him we will be sure that he will also fight for us. I care for him like a son. Who would you choose in such a situation? Your wife or your son? That is my decision, now it's up to you to decide on which side you are."

"Well, I guess then we are on the same side", Tom smirked, "You wouldn't be able to make the other clans think your way, would you?"

"At the moment I would really like to sleep", the vampire stated, "But yes, we will talk about it with the other clans and those who are not staying neutral will more likely than not join. Of course, I would be a lot more motivated, if a certain mate would decide to go out with me...", he winked at Rabastan, who was trying hard not to blush: "I'll think about it... And I certainly won't be your wife!", he finally said curtly and Sunny closed his eyes pleasedly.

"Severus, would you collect Harry's things from the Gryffindor tower?", Tom asked after they had completed their plan to insure Percy's election, "I don't want him to go back there."

Severus nodded: "I'll also fetch some special Dreamless Sleep Potion for Harry. I could imagine that a good night's rest will be good for him."

"If it's like normal Dreamless Sleep, then it won't work", Rudolphus stopped him.

"Why not? Are you implying that my potions are not effective? How would you know?"

"We made Harry sleep, when he spent the night with us", Rabastan answered with a wary glance at the Dark Lord, "His nightmares were horrific... He said that Dreamless Sleep doesn't work."

"What do you mean you made him sleep?", Tom asked dangerously calm, he was sick of this, he was sick of everyone knowing things about his Harry he didn't know, he was sick of all the lies and half-truths, he was sick of Harry's mistrust, he was sick of seeing him hurt, he was sick of it.

"He barely sleeps, every four days or so", Rudolphus said, "He's afraid of the nightmares. We don't know what he's dreaming about, though after this here I have a rather clear idea. Afterwards he's a wreck, he cries for hours. I think he uses Silencing Charms when he can't avoid sleeping."

"Fine", Tom sneered- he needed to get out of there and as much as it pained him away from Harry, "Severus, fetch the potion, maybe it will help. I'll fetch Harry's things", he stormed out of their chambers, letting the door shut automatically, and went straight out of the castle.

It was a beautiful afternoon, the sun sending its rays over the glittering surface of the lake, tinting everything in a soft golden light. The leaves of the trees of the Forbidden Forest were just beginning to lose their green while the grass still remained its verdant colour. He was sure Harry would have loved it.

But he didn't want to think about Harry. He turned to his left, walking alongside the castle walls, his feet instinctively carrying him to his old hiding place. It was near the Ravenclaw common room, a small piece of grass in between two towers, shielding it from the wind, that rustled the leaves of the forest. The walls here were covered with wild roses and one branch hid the entrance to this little sanctuary. He didn't know if anyone else had ever found this place. It was likely, but there never were any traces of another human being, frequenting it.

He slid down to the ground, missing for a short moment the presence of a book, which had mostly been the reason for him to come here: To read in peace and quiet, without fan-girls swooning over him, without someone reading over his shoulder, without his goons grunting and making other distracting noises.

But then he realised that he had other things to occupy his mind with. He was still the Dark Lord, damnit, but lately he acted like love-sick puppy! Lucius was calling him by his first name and smirked all the time, laughing silently about his behaviour- and who could blame him? He had gone to him asking for advice for his love-life for Salazar's Sake. He had no problem with that per se- he knew his Death Eaters still respected him, even though his more competent ones were favouring Harry- but Harry lied to him, didn't trust him obviously. He thought he could live with it that Harry had other friends, that he trusted others with his secrets, but it turned out that he was wrong.

If he had to describe his feelings he wouldn't have to think long- only three words came to his mind: jealousy, hurt, anger. In comparison to what he learned today, Harry's secret of Wandless magic was nothing. And nothing was exactly what Harry gave him in return for revealing his feelings, for doing everything he could to make Harry happy.

His small, innocent Harry had been abused in the worst possible way for years. Suddenly two new emotions added to his list: hate and compassion, and with it came the abrupt realisation that Harry had every right to make the decisions he had. He had been raped. That was something he himself was sure he wouldn't have taken so well. If that was, what you could call Harry's state. Every wizard would be shocked to hear about something like Harry's case, no matter if he was the boy-who-lived or not. Rape was practically unheard of in the Wizarding World, even such a vile being as Bellatrix would have shied away from committing such a crime.

He still was hurt that Harry hadn't bothered to tell him, that he had learned every important fact about Harry so far by accident. But to be honest he hadn't shared his secrets, either. Given he didn't have as many, but there were still some things he was sure Harry would like to know and in all honesty he had no reason not to tell him. There were a lot of reasons Harry kept things from him.

The sun disappeared behind the Forbidden Forest shedding his environment in dim, shadowy light.

"What do you think you're doing?", a pale hand grabbed his lower arm painfully, twisting it to make him stand up, "How can one single human be so stupid?"

He saw the enraged face of the vampire for a moment before he felt himself pulled through the roses. Everything after that was a blur and when his eyes could focus again on his surroundings he was staring at the entrance of his rooms.

"Open the stupid door, Voldemort", the vampire ordered and pushed him for good measure.

"Who do think you are?", Tom backed him against a wall with his wand drawn, "Just because we are on the same side, it doesn't mean, I won't kill you if you annoy me. And at moment you most definitely are annoying me. Give me one reason why I shouldn't give you a nice little tan right now."

"You stupid prick, because you are hurting Harry", Sunny barred his impressive fangs, "He's curled up in the corner of his room and no-one can touch him. And guess what? Your anger isn't helping..."

"When did he wake up?", Tom asked hastily as he ran through the living room and started on the stairs.

"About half an hour ago. He had a nightmare and his scar was bleeding", the vampire was close behind.

The door was open and he could see his Death Eaters standing around the bed, but Harry was no where to be seen: "Where is he?"

"Under the bed", Lucius answered in a whisper, "He crawled under there when we tried to give him a Calming Potion. Narcissa is downstairs- when he saw her he got totally hysterical. Severus is actually the only one who didn't make it worse, but since that episode with the potion he doesn't allow anyone to get close."

"Okay, give me that bottle", he ordered quietly and the Potion's Master gave it to him, "Don't let him get out of the room, but try not to scare him even more."

He put the potion in his pocket and carefully lowered himself to the floor, slowly lifting the drapings and peered under them. His eyes needed a moment to adjust to the lack of light, but even after that he still couldn't see his husband. He was about to pull back and ask the others if they were sure Harry was here when he saw an even darker spot in the corner farthest away from him.

That couldn't be Harry, right? The spot seemed too small to belong to a person, even one as petite as Harry, but as he shifted a little, he could see the light get caught in fearful green eyes. Only a second, then the spot moved getting even smaller. He completely crawled under the bed, careful to stay on his side and not to get into any contact with Harry, who whimpered quietly, but didn't move.

/Harry, precious, I'll hold out my hand for you, okay?/, he slowly extended his right hand, placing it in the middle between himself and Harry, whose whimpers grew louder/And when you think, you're ready, you just take it, alright? Until then we can just talk. What do you say, hm? I know that you felt my feelings earlier and I want you to know that that was not your fault at all. I'm sorry I left you. It just got too much and I needed time to think everything over. There's this place, where I used to go during my own school time, maybe I can show you later. Would you like that?", he shifted slightly to accommodate his legs so that they wouldn't cramp and Harry shouted one frightened "No!" while scrambling backwards until Tom was sure, you could see the dent from the outside: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll be good, don't tell Uncle Vernon, please, I'll do anything, please, no, I didn't mean to be a freak, I'm sorry, please. Please, no, it hurts. I don't want to, please, oh, please, please, no..."

Harry's ramblings ended with terrified scream as Tom's arms closed around him, who had decided it was better to have Harry safe in his arms than to terrify him from the other end of the bed. Harry struggled against his hold, his feet kicking against his legs, his hands pushing against his chest, small fists pounding against him and broken voice begging again, to stop, to make it stop hurting, to let him go. But he didn't and very carefully manoeuvred them out from under the bed and sat down on top of it, a crying Harry in his arms.

/Shh, you're safe. Don't cry anymore, little one. No-one will hurt you. Your aunt and uncle are not here/, he regretted the last sentenced when Harry winced as if whipped and then reinforced his struggling: "I'm sorry, I'll be good. Please, don't tell Uncle Vernon. Please, no, don't hurt me. Let me go, please. I'm sorry..."

/I'm afraid I can't let you go, Harry/, Tom tried to caress his cheek, but Harry twisted away, protecting his head with his arms/Listen to me, please. It was just a nightmare, it's not real./  
"I'm sorry I woke you up, I'm sorry. It won't happen again. I'm sorry. Please, I'm sorry, don't hurt me."

_At least now I know that he understands me,_ Tom mused He had chosen to speak Parseltongue because he didn't want to remind Harry of his Uncle or someone else for that matter, for it was clearly not the fat Muggle he was speaking to, but Harry was caught too deeply in his own nightmare to process anything he said.

"Severus, I need you to help me to give him that potion", he called out softly while fingering for the potion in his pocket, the other hand securing a terrified Harry in his lap.

The Potion's Master approached slowly but without hesitating and uncorked the bottle, before sitting down next to the two black-haired wizards. He very gently coaxed Harry's head from its hiding place, prying the arms away from it and holding them in place in front of the small body, one hand wrapped around the tiny wrists. Harry struggled and sobbed, huge tears falling down on his hands as he lifted his free one and captured Harry's chin, pressing his fingers into his cheeks to make him open his mouth. If possible the small boy's angst increased at that and he froze in place, his eyes screwed shut, but tears welling down from under the closed lids. Tom didn't hesitate any longer but tipped the potion into his mouth, massaging his throat to coax him to swallow.

As Severus' hands left him, he curled up, not caring that he was still in Tom's lap, not caring about anything anymore, he just wanted to die, to have the pain and humiliation over with. His aunt had told Uncle Vernon, Uncle Vernon was angry, Uncle Vernon hated him, Uncle Vernon hurt him, he forced him to suck his cock and he wished, he was allowed to die.

/It's okay now, kitten/, Tom murmured softly, rubbing Harry's back in the way he knew he liked it/You're safe. Everyone is worried about you. They are all here, Lucius and Severus and Rudolphus and Rabastan, even that vampire is here, Sunny, they all want you to be okay again. The potion will help you to calm down. You can breathe more easily now and you're no longer afraid, you just have to realise it. You're safe, no-one will do anything to you./

"Why do you hate me so much?", Harry sobbed, gently rocking himself, cradling his head between his hands.

"I don't hate you, Harry, no-one here does", he answered shockedly, abandoning the snake-language.

"Of course you do", Harry argued weakly, "What did I do to make you so angry?"

"No, Harry, listen to me", Harry mewled when he tried to bring him out of his foetal position, "I don't hate you, the hate you felt was and will never be directed at you. I hate your relatives, yes and I hate a lot of other people, but never you."

"And what is with anger and jealousy?", Harry had obviously calmed down, only to get irritated with him, "Don't lie to me. Are you suddenly jealous of Uncle Vernon? Because he fucked me more often than you? Because you can have me, I honestly don't care anymore. If this is what my life is going to be like, you can have it, I don't want it."

"No, Harry, please, don't talk like this", he got up from the bed to give Harry some space, "I'm not your uncle and I will never act like he did. I'm not jealous of him. I'm jealous because you told more or less everyone more than me and that hurts. But I'm not angry anymore, Harry, I understand now. Please, don't be like this, please?"

"What do you understand?", it took a while for Harry to react and he still wasn't looking up.

"I understand your reasons for keeping it from me", Tom answered gently, "I never gave you a reason to trust me, I never gave away any of my secrets. I understand that you're scared of the reaction, I understand that trust cannot be forced, but is given freely, that you didn't want anyone else to know, either. I understand that they are your friends."

"You are my friend, too, aren't you?", Harry looked up at him with pleading eyes, swimming in tears.

"Of course, Harry", the red-eyed wizard sat back down next to Harry, letting him rest his head on his thighs, "I apologise for hurting you."

"I'm okay", he smiled shyly at the others in the room, "Sorry, for worrying you."

"You gave Narcissa quite a shock", Lucius said without reproach, "But I'm sure, she will understand."

"What? But... Oh", Harry looked honestly confused, which quickly changed to a guilty expression, "I'm sorry."

"Will you tell us what happened?", Tom asked gently, carding his hands through Harry's slightly damp hair.

Harry worried his bottom lip and trembled lightly, but whispered a small "okay".

Lucius called his wife back up, who kissed Harry's head relievedly and covered him with a blanket before she allowed him to speak, urging him with gentle words.

"I had a nightmare", Harry confessed, "I was eight and it was my birthday. They had locked me in my cupboard, I don't know what I did wrong. Uncle Vernon left for work and Aunt Petunia gave me my list of chores. I was to clean out the attic, it was really hot and Dudley was licking his ice-cream, dripping some of it on the floor so that I always had to start over again. When Aunt Petunia came to check up on me, she wasn't happy about my progress and overturned the cleaning water on me. She told me I was just as dirty and useless as my parents had been, that I was a filthy, ungrateful freak. She kept insulting me and my parents as I continued working. I found a box with old photos with her and my mother on it, she burned them, holding my hands in the flames. There was a scorch on the floor afterwards and she said she would tell my uncle about it... I didn't mean to react the way I did", his eyes were begging them to understand, "You reminded me of my relatives, I'm sorry."

"It is not your fault, dear", Narcissa caressed his cheek lovingly, "Did I remind you of your aunt?"

Harry nodded hesitantly: "You're both tall and blonde and... I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it, Harry", the blonde woman gently tucked a strand of hair out of his face, "As long as you're not afraid of me in real life, that's okay."

Harry smiled at her, leaning into her touch and closing his eyes briefly: "Thanks for the bed-time story earlier, I liked it."

"It was my pleasure", Narcissa answered, "I still have a few others, maybe you'd like to hear one later?"

The green-eyed boy nodded slightly.

"Harry, why didn't you react to me like to the others?", Severus asked and kneeled down next to the blushing boy: "Because you are you. I recognised you, you always wear black and you always smell like fresh herbs. I know that you would never hurt me. I always knew, even as you still hated me. You were always a constant in my life, you don't see me as something that isn't there and you always protected me..."

"I'm glad you see me like this", the Potion's Master replied honestly, "But why didn't you allow us to give you that potion? Did your relatives try to poison you?"

"No...", Harry stuttered, "They... My uncle, he...", he looked helplessly into their clueless faces, "He forced me to take his cock into my mouth", Harry closed his eyes, waiting for the blow: This was just to much, they couldn't like him after this, they would see how disgusting he was.

"Harry, it was not your fault, you didn't deserve it", Tom kissed him oh-so-gently, "And you're not disgusting or dirty or used."

"How did you know that I was feeling that?", Harry carefully glanced at him, finding a gentle, sad smile and concerned eyes looking down at him.

"It was written all over your face", he chuckled lowly, making Harry blush, "And I thought skipping the step of asking you would make it more interesting", he grinned impishly down at Harry, who stared at him in fascination: "Are you mocking me?"

"No, I would never do that", he said wide-eyed, "Well, maybe a little", Harry slapped his thigh lightly, causing him to look offended: "Meanie!"

He laughed at Harry's glare, leaning down to kiss the pouting lips: "I must admit that I've been insulted much worse and more aptly... but never by a more beautiful person", Harry blushed crimson at the compliment, hiding his face from all the smirking faces.

"Harry, can I ask you something?", Rabastan asked before continuing, "When you sleep in our rooms I had the impression that there were two different kinds of nightmares, am I right?"

"The other ones stopped", Harry mumbled trying to avoid answering the question, but his friends wouldn't let him down this easily and so he finally gave in, "They are visions. Of what you did", he looked at Tom, "But they stopped."

"What exactly did you see, Harry?", Tom asked, dread filling his heart- if Harry knew of all his deeds he must hate him.

"Death Eater meetings and raids and torture", Harry whispered, "I always had them, I guess I saw everything, that's why they stopped."

"Shit, Harry, I'm sorry", Tom hugged him tightly, trying to quench the guilt that filled him, "I never meant to make your childhood even worse."

"I never had a childhood, Tom", Harry stopped him gently, "And I know you would have stopped it, if you could. It is okay. I helped them."

"How?", he returned confusedly, Harry smiled happily, before he turned to the assembled Death Eater: "Did you feel any pain, when Tom tortured you?"

Lucius lifted his eyebrow, he was only tortured, if he really messed up and he had always made sure that that didn't happen. Yes, yes, being the right-hand-man was quite convenient.

"No", Severus answered in confusion, only then realising that he could not remember any pain, just a dull numb feeling as his body twitched under the Cruciatus.

"No", Rabastan and Rudolphus had come to a similar realisation, "What did you do?"

"I thought since I already could feel your pain it would be stupid to still let you feel it, too", Harry shrugged, "I blocked the curses or at least the pain they were supposed to inflict."

"But you should be insane by all the curses", Rudolphus exclaimed, horrified, "Why aren't you?"

"Who says I'm not?", Harry laughed at their shocked faces, "No, as far I know I haven't lost my mind, yet. Empaths have a greater storage for feelings, at least that is what Simon told me, because they feel much more in all their life. And they process feelings differently. Didn't he tell you that? Every empath has an own code, how he receives certain feelings. When I feel pain from others that's not what I feel."

"Then what do you feel?", Lucius asked, "It can't be pleasant."

"No, it's not", Harry answered softly, "It's a mixture of anger, hatred, disgust and jealousy. Everything my relatives feel towards me, when they hit me."

"They will never hit you again, Harry", Tom carefully shifted out from under his love and covered him with the blanket, "No-one will for that matter."

"I don't want to sleep", Harry struggled when he realised what Tom was doing, "And I'm not tired. I'd rather eat than sleep once again."

"Okay", Tom sighed as Harry swung his legs over the side of the bed, summoning a pair of socks and a sweat-shirt to keep Harry warm, "What would you like to eat?"

"Pancakes", Harry exclaimed at once, blushing as he became aware of the weird looks he received, "What?"

"Nothing, Harry", Tom smiled lightly, taking the smaller boy by the hand, "I'm sure Dobby will be ecstatic."

And he was, especially as everyone else also ordered something and as Ron, Draco and Blaise tore into the room, looking a little flushed from running so fast, but otherwise merely relieved when they spotted Harry happily munching his food. He beckoned them over, lightly leaning against Ron, who immediately put an arm around him and looked a bit happier, impishly asking what he had missed, before he turned back to Narcissa talking about her pregnancy, which seemed to embarrass both Malfoy men and prompted Narcissa and Harry to lengthen the conversation even further.

Tom watched them in amusement, absent-mindedly tracing small symbols in the palm of Harry's hand, while he thought about the new revelations. Sunny was nursing a glass of red-wine whilst wooing Rabastan, true to his word, throwing in stories about his clan and its members every now and then. Harry could feel everyone trying to act normally around him, but at the same time to be considerate of his past. It was a very awkward situation at least when you were able to look past their masks, otherwise it would have looked like a happy gathering of friends, enjoying a meal together. But he appreciated it nonetheless, although he was pretty relieved when everyone said good-bye. Narcissa and Lucius were the first to go since they still had to walk past the apparation wards and they took their son and Blaise with them. Severus left a short time later to "report back" to Dumbledore, as the only reason he had been relieved from his classes was to was to spy on the Dark Lord.

"I should go to", Ron whispered after a while and tugged Harry up from the sofa and away from the others, "Will you be okay, Har?"

"Yes, Ron", Harry smiled at him, "I'm safe here. Don't let Hermione or Ginny bother you."

"Don't worry about me", Ron chastised, "You always do that. Whenever someone tries to help you, you take care of them instead. It's not fair."

"I agree, Mr. Weasley", Tom spoke up from behind them, putting an arm around Harry's waist, "The only one you'll have to take of is yourself and the baby. Let us handle the rest, little lion."

Ron seemed highly uncomfortable at the thought that he and the Dark Lord could have anything in common, but nodded nonetheless: "The baby needs you more than we do, Har. I know you can do this, Harry, but you really need to accept help. One of my great cousins was pregnant, I'll ask him about it if you want me, too."

"That case hasn't been recorded", Tom remarked, who by now knew all the books by heart.

Ron for the first time met the Dark Lord's eyes: "We are purebloods, too, and though we might not have money we also have secrets passed down from generation to generation. This is one of them."

"Then can you tell me?", Harry asked concernedly.

"You are family, Har", Ron smiled down at his little brother, "Mum and Ginny might not think so, but all my brothers do. I'll ask him for you, okay?"

"Thank you", Harry freed himself from Voldemort's loose embrace and threw his arms around Ron's neck, "Thanks for being my friend. You aren't angry with me for being pregnant, are you?"

"If my mother taught me anything then that children are a wonder and should be cherished as such", Ron said pensively, "I might not be happy about the other father, but I know you good enough to know that you can wrap everyone around your finger", he grinned broadly, "I'm sure you'll manage to make him a prime example of a father and I know you will be. Don't worry so much, Har."

"Thank you", Harry hugged him once more before they said their good-byes.

A bit later Harry grabbed Rudolphus' arm when he made to leave as well: "Can we talk for a minute, please?"

The brown-haired wizard nodded and they slipped out into the darkness of the corridor: "Is something wrong, Harry? Do you need help?"

"No", he smiled up at the muscular wizard, though it was too dark to make it out, "I wanted to ask you something. It's kind of personal, though."

"Ask away."

"Were you and Severus together?", Rudolphus' heart skipped a beat or two, _this was so long ago, how did he... did Severus mention something?_: "Yes, we were in the same year", he mumbled finally, "We broke up, when I was betrothed to Bellatrix. Why?"

"Because you two stupid dimwits give me a bloody headache", Harry stabbed his finger in his chest, "You two love each other, don't you? You are always lusting after each other and still you don't even talk much. You are finally free to be with who you want, so why don't you do something about this?"

"Why is it my fault?", Rudolphus very nearly pouted, "He could do something, too, but all he thinks about are potions."

"That's not true", Harry argued gently, "And you know it. He thinks a lot about you."

"How do you know all this? Has he told you something."

Harry tipped his temple: "I'm an empath, remember? I always feel the same emotions rolling off of you when you're in each other's presence. And by now I discovered a certain pattern in your feelings, when you think about the other."

"And what am I supposed to do now? And why can't he make the first move?", the tall man whined, trying to wring some compassion out of Harry.

"Because he's giving you time to adjust to being a bachelor again. And if you need time, then take it, but don't put him off, just because you don't want to risk anything. He feels the same about you. And I want you two to be happy, you both deserve it, please?"

"I'll ask him out", Rudolphus declared and Harry hugged him happily, "And if he rejects me..."

"He won't, don't be so pessimistic", Harry promised, "But if he does, I'll wash his head (1)."

"What about my brother?", Rudolphus stopped him, when he made to enter the rooms again, a bit of anxiousness clouding his face.

"He's fine", Harry smiled reassuringly at him, "Sunny will do everything to make him happy and that not only because they're mates. Don't worry, they're good for each other.

The two brothers made their leave following this conversation and Sunny with Tom's permission and thanks to Harry's persuasiveness, settled down in the living room.

Harry still refused to sleep and Tom announced that under those circumstances he wouldn't sleep, either. After a long argument they compromised that Tom would sleep and that Harry wouldn't. Suffice to say, the Dark Lord wasn't thrilled with this arrangement, but finally conceded when Harry used his strongest weapon: Big pleading, emerald-green eyes and slender fingers tangled in his hand.(1)It's a literal translation of the German saying. It means to give someone a piece of one's mind or to pick a bone with someone, but I thought in this case this would fit much better...

**

* * *

**

**Hey, there provided that you are not on killing rampage right now, could you write me a review, please? And it would be really nice if you new reviewers would keep reviewing...**

**Thanks...**


	48. Twisted Minds

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all the characters from the books are intellectual property of J.K.Rowling.**

**Author's Note: Hey there, I hadn't planned on this chapter and so it's just kind of an interlude and I'm sorry if it's rather short. Thanks for all the reviews! I love them!

* * *

**

**48. TWISTED MINDS**

Dumbledore sat in his rocking chair near the warm fire, wishing not for the first time, the warmth would penetrate through to his bones, which nowadays seemed to creak and crack with every move, and sucked on his twenty-first lemon drop in frustration. How was it possible that his plan had backfired so badly? If you could trust Severus, which you couldn't, his plot had merely brought the two closer together and if he had hoped that Voldemort would at least turn away from Harry after he had found out about his disgusting past, he was sorely disappointed. And he **had** hoped for it!

All his careful scheming and planning concerning those two was going down the drain. Every hero needed a villain and he had created both. There were his creations- so why didn't they play their roles? Everything had been going perfectly until Riddle had to be all eccentric and offer peace. Honestly, what kind of Dark Lord offers peace? But okay, why not? As long as it was some kind of insidious plan that he would be able to uncover, it was something to work with. But this here, this here was unheard of: No Dark Lord falls in love with his enemy. Full stop. It wasn't negotiable.

It would have been perfect, Riddle would have hurt Harry in some way, leaving him lethally wounded and be weakened by the breach of the contract. Perfect. It would have been easy enough to get rid of both of them and take over the Wizarding World. No-one could have blamed him, either. He was the mentor of the Saviour, the grandfatherly sage and when he would have climbed on his throne with a grief-stricken face over the loss of his adopted grandson, no-one would have objected to some new rules. That plan was fool-proof. At least he had thought so.

He had sacrificed the better part of his life for that plan. First he had had to mould Riddle into the perfect villain. A bad childhood in an orphanage, the feeling of being treated unfair, reinforced by the belief that he was made to be something special, that he was a wizard, the heir of Salazar Slytherin. It was offendingly easy to get him that far, only ever a gentle push in the wrong direction and a few killed friends. Everyone could have done that. Of course, it was unfortunate that Riddle had slipped from his grasp so early on, but in the end it couldn't be helped as it wouldn't do to be associated with a Dark Lord.

Then came the second part. Harry. Of course it was advantageous that he heard the prophecy, which pointed him in the right direction. A part of it was relayed to Wormtail, the simpering but useful fool, and his plan set in motion. It was easy enough to decide between Neville and Harry. If he had the Potters killed he would have free reign over the orphaned boy, while Neville had a huge family beside his parents. Besides, Harry was more powerful and promised to become much better looking and a cute little hero was exactly what he needed for his plan to work.

So far, so good. He convinced James to make Wormtail the secret keeper, Riddle killed Harry's parents, Sirius was arrested and the boy came to the Dursleys, who were all to happy to treat him according to his suggestions. It was all just perfect. The Dursleys brought Harry to heel and when he came to Hogwarts he was all too anxious to comply with him for a little pat on the head every once in a while. And he didn't seek attention like his father had, leaving him in the centre of attention without people expecting him to kill Riddle. No, that was Harry's task.

He popped his twenty-fifth lemon drop in his mouth and cracked his arthritic fingers one by one while he came to the conclusion that everything had started to go wrong with Sirius' appearance. Sirius Black. He should have had him killed a long time ago, but who could have foreseen that he would stay sane in Azkaban and even escape? And when he had had the opportunity it was already too late and Harry had the stupid idea that Sirius loved him unconditionally and that therefore it was okay to develop a real personality.

But that could have been fixed if the werewolf hadn't interfered and saved Sirius from behind the veil with the help of his pack. How could one single man have so much luck? It just wasn't possible.

And that's why he now sat in his rocking chair, feeling and looking like an old man. It wasn't Riddle who had brought him here or even Harry, it was Sirius and Sirius alone. Before, he had been able to draw on Harry's magic almost constantly, which was perhaps not exactly good for the boy's health or his growth, but it had felt so good to feel his young magic rush through his body. He had never been exceptionally powerful and his victory over Grindelwald was more luck than anything, but it still allowed him to play the role of the victorious hero and to absorb the Dark Wizard's magic. So much power! It was intoxicating! And he wanted more and more and still more.

Damn Riddle for being so suspicious, otherwise he could have exploited that boy, too. Harry was such a pliant, helpful little boy and he doubted that he would have protested, had he known. And, Merlin, was he powerful. The perfect resource. That is until Sirius came.

He furiously sucked on his next lemon drop. Now he had lost the war before it even began. Voldemort just had to start lusting after the boy, hadn't he? And Harry just had to turn his back on him and enjoy his new status as Voldemort's fuck toy. He thought, he had made sure Harry would never willingly have any sexual contact with someone. That's why he had agreed: The forced sexual intercourse would make the foolish little boy realise how evil Voldemort was and that he had treated his good grandpa Albus wrongly. Another faultless plan. Maybe he should have checked on the boy more often to make sure he learned the lesson from his uncle...

Vernon Dursley was a disgusting, power-hungry pervert- the perfect choice for his little weapon. Oh yes, Harry was well taken care of there. An evil grin spread over his wrinkled features as he leisurely stroked over his slowly growing erection. _Delicious! _Maybe he should have enjoyed Harry himself more often. His eyes half closed as he released in his red and yellow boxer-shorts. Riddle must have been more sane than he had given him credit for.

But they hadn't reckoned on him. If he couldn't win, no-one would, least of all his two toys. He still had some things up his sleeve.

Of course, it was rather disadvantageous that almost the whole Weasley clan had fallen off of him, but that couldn't be helped anymore. Given, he hadn't counted on the boys defying their mother, but he still had more than enough followers.

And two who proved to be very useful... He still had a last resort, a bit more twisting, a bit more manipulating and Harry would break, Riddle would go crazy and if he planned carefully enough he could defeat Riddle with Harry's magic. How he longed for that energy again... Hermione and Ginny would need to help him, but that was easy enough: some well-placed spells, some useful potions and then...

He pensively stared at the things that lay on the small table beside him: his wand, the box with lemon drops, a book with decidedly Dark rituals, a few of his beard bows and a brush. A truly evil smile spread over his wrinkled face and he walked over to his book shelf with new vigour. He was not beaten yet.

He studiously ignored the insistent knocking on his door, since he knew that it was only Minerva. It seemed like he had lost her, too, but that only slightly dampened his mood. He had not yet given up and though his rule over England- and the whole world soon after- would have to wait a bit longer, it was still within reach. With both Harry's and Riddle's power he would have enough time to enjoy it...

Just as he was leafing through the book to find the right page there was a loud plop behind him and he swivelled around, cursing once again his cracking bones and his wobbly knees.

"Dobby", he greeted surprised, immediately forcing a benevolent and unsurprised smile on his face, "Does Harry send you?"

"No, Dumbledore, Sir", the house-elf answered, not bowing and the "Sir" the only sign of courtesy in his short statement, "Master Tom is sending me and he wants Dumbledore to know that this is just a warning and should he ever hurt Master Harry again there will be no mercy for him."

"Dobby, what are you talking about?", the old wizard still smiled at the small unimpressive creature, "You have to help me to save Harry from that monster."

"Dobby will save Master Harry from you", Dobby grinned rather evilly, narrowing his tennis ball-eyes, "Dobby knew everything and he helped keep Master's secrets, but he is glad that now he can help Master Tom to take revenge for Master Harry."

With that said he finally bowed mockingly and snapped his long thin fingers before he plopped away. In his stead Voldemort's giant snake appeared, rearing up menacingly as it slid nearer, swishing his wand from the table just as he reached for it so that it rolled to the floor and landed in front of the fireplace, small flames licking at it.

Nagini hissed and had Dumbledore been able to understand her, he might have realised that Tom did more than lust after Harry and that the small Gryffindor was the only reason he would survive the attack of the poisoned teeth.

Unimaginable pain shot through his leg and up his spine as Nagini's teeth sunk into his right leg, like two sharp knives. He could feel the poison spreading through his body, paralysing his limbs and burning in his veins like fire. It was enough to make him scream and he could swear that the snake gave him a contemptuous look as she retreated slightly. When she prepared to strike again he gratefully gave in to unconsciousness, not noticing as the snake gave a disgusted little hiss and then disappeared through the Floo after she had pushed the box with the Floo powder off the mantelpiece.

Harry stood in the kitchen, making cheese sandwiches for Tom, who was still sleeping, as a kind of thank you and a peace offering of sorts. He had yet to grasp fully what had happened the other day:

It had all started with Professor McGonagall keeping him behind in her class on Monday.

She had brought him up to the Headmaster's office, successfully preventing Draco or Blaise to talk to him, where she had left him. Dumbledore had explained the situation to him, undoubtedly expecting some kind of exuberant attestation of his gratefulness for finding this way out for him- after all it was impossible that the Dark Lord Voldemort didn't have some cruel streaks and liked to take them out on his husband.

Harry had just stared at him, dumbfounded, even too shocked to throw a fit, just sat there staring straight ahead while the headmaster let him in on some supposedly secret plans.

Harry felt physically sick as he had to listen to Dumbledore's twisted ideas how to bring the Dark Lord's reign to an end, even more so as he could feel what Dumbledore the satisfaction and anticipation roll off of Dumbledore in waves. He had never told Dumbledore about his empathy or anything else really. But he held his empathy more sacred than his other secrets- at least it had been like this.

He was still slightly miffed with Simon for telling practically the whole Dark Order of his ability. Despite the pain it brought, he liked that ability: It wasn't magic and it was somehow purer than anything else. But still this secret was not as secret as his last one, the one no-one in the Wizarding World was supposed to know about (not that they were supposed to know about his other secrets).

His Animagus form was something that connected him with his father and Sirius. It was handy and although it made him even more extraordinary, it was nothing uncommon. He didn't use Wandless Magic often and to him it seemed like something everyone could do with a bit of training and the right attitude. Everyone knew he was able to speak Parseltongue and everyone had got used to it.

But this last secret was nothing of that sort and it influenced a far greater part of his life than anything else. Severus and Lucius knew of the abuse, Rudolphus and Rabastan knew of the nightmares and Draco and Blaise knew everything. It had already scared him to know that those last two knew, but if everyone would find out about this... He could imagine their shocked faces. At first they would show pity and then the realisation would dawn at them that he was Harry Potter, that he could have done something and then they would be disgusted and they would only feel contempt towards him. And it was all Dumbledore's fault.

As the anger finally hit him he was in a small room next to the Headmaster's office, caged in like a dangerous animal, "for his own safety", of course. He destroyed it, till he stood in a pile of smoking ashes. And then he cried because he had lost, because he had no way out anymore, because the boy he had pretended to be had never existed and there would be nobody to like the real him. He hadn't bothered to repair the damage, he had given up to find excuses. _Game over._

Professor McGonagall had been honestly shocked when she found him in his destroyed room still in the same spot, staring blankly at one of the mirrors, not recognising who he saw in it: That boy in the mirror was pale and malnourished, his face, his hands and his clothes were blackened with soot, his eyes were empty as was his heart. _Hero dead, game over._

"Sweet Merlin, Mr. Potter, what have you done to yourself?", she roughly grabbed his upper arm and pushed him into the bathroom, "Take a shower and hurry."

Harry did as told. He could at least look clean for his execution: Tomorrow everyone would know about his defeat, maybe already this evening, depending on when the Ministry was informed of this. He looked in the mirror again- he didn't recognise the clean face, either. It was that of a stranger. He smiled bitterly. He had hid behind his mask for so long that he didn't even recognise himself. But that would be over now, all over. There was a flickering thought of fighting, but he was **so** tired. Everyone would despise him, even his own child, he was sure of that.

"I love you, I always will", he rested a hand on his stomach, "And I will always be there for you, but I don't think you will want to see me after you found out how disgusting I am. But I will always watch out for you and no-one will ever hurt you. They will not take you away from me."

Professor McGonagall had led him to the hospital wing, where everyone was waiting for him. If only they knew...

Damian, was holding the door open for him- at least it wouldn't be a total stranger who would prod him.

He smiled slightly at him and the werewolf told him not to worry, that it wouldn't hurt. He asked him to take off his clothes, all of his clothes and Harry did. It was over, anyway. The healer asked him some embarrassing question. He didn't lie once- where was the point, anyway?- but he evaded the questions when he could get away with it. Damian scanned him for any concealed injuries- nothing. He checked his pulse- a bit high, but probably due to nervousness. And then he used a spell and everything was back- his whole body glowed with old scars, his bones shone through the skin, marking the old fractures. Damian gasped, Harry shrank into himself, trying to cover his nudity.

More embarrassing questions and this time there was no dodging the issue. A different spell, he cried out in humiliation as the ghost of a memory pushed into him, similar to Priori Incantatem. His belly glowed.

And Damian gasped again before forcing him to swallow a Calming Draught, a special potion made for him. Madam Pomfrey had thrust a bag of them at the younger healer, telling him he would understand soon. He didn't feel calm at all and the potion didn't help. There were hands helping him in his clothes, gentle words. And then came the next shock when he asked if they were finished. He just wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

Damian asked about the pregnancy and the young healer was more open than Madam Pomfrey. He told him the truth, that he would die or lose the child. "Of course, those are only the statistics, it doesn't say anything really...,. Harry started to cry then. He didn't know how long the werewolf tried to calm him down until he gave up and let him out.

And there was Tom. Damn the execution, he had to save his child first and if he had to plead and beg and apologise to accomplish that he would. He would submit, he would do anything if Tom only saved his child...

But Tom wasn't planning to make him grovel, he didn't plan to demand something in return for saving their child. He wanted to save Harry, too. And suddenly there was a new light. _Enter new player_. And maybe he just needed to wait for Tom to save him. None of them had given up on him, none of them was disgusted and none of them hated him. There was hope yet. Maybe if they liked the real him, he could start to get to know the boy in the mirror, maybe he wasn't so bad.

"Hey", strong arms closed around his waist after Tom had made his presence known, "I see you have been hard at work", he motioned to the plate of cheese sandwiches, "So hungry?"

"I thought you might be hungry", Harry murmured quietly, fiddling with the knife, "I made you cheese sandwiches."

"Thank you, Harry", Tom took the plate from Harry's small hands and put it behind him on the table, pulling out a chair for him to sit on, "Would you like to sit in my lap?", Harry nodded timidly and Tom comfortably settled him down, "Where's your vampire?"

"He went to visit Rabastan. They look good together, don't you think?"

"I'll just believe you", Tom smiled, "Will you please eat something, Harry?"

The small boy obediently took an apple, leaning back against his chest, nibbling slowly, while Tom rubbed his stomach and grabbed one of the cheese sandwiches.

"Ehm, Harry", he asked unsurely after the first bite, "Where exactly is the cheese in those cheese sandwiches?"

"It made me sick", Harry stated matter-of-factly, "It's in the rubbish bin."

"I'm not allowed to get some new cheese for my sandwiches, am I?", Tom sighed, but kissed Harry's neck when the small body in his lap tensed in fear, "It's okay, little one, I probably had more than enough cheese already, maybe I should try something new."

Harry smiled at him and nuzzled his neck as the Dark Lord summoned some cream cheese and jam from the fridge.

Afterwards they went together to the infirmary, where Madam Pomfrey tutted and scowled at the both of them, finally declaring that Harry was to rest and as always use more of his magic, which left Harry in a decidedly bad mood.

* * *

**Now, how many reviews should I demand? You know, the next chapter is as good as written and I just need to check it so if I get the reviews, you get the next chapter. Now you want to know how many I want, don't you? Well, I won't tell you. Just review...**


	49. Honesty

**Disclaimer: Well, all the wonderful characters belong to the talented J.K.Rowling, but they are on my wish list for Christmas...**

**Author's Note: Happy St. Nicholas' day to all of you! I have a few very important news for you. Firstly, I'm still alive. Secondly, Christmassy is a real word, I would never have thought so! Thirdly, there's water on the Mars! And lastly, my brother got me a new key pad (or rather I got his old one) and I still have to get used to it...**

**Oh, okay, the really important note is that you can now read the whole 28th on AFF...**

**

* * *

49. HONESTY **

"You have an owl, Harry", Tom stated gently, motioning to the small little thing that fluttered in front of the window nearest to Harry and impatiently pecked against it with its beak.

"It's Pig, Ron's owl", Harry noted, catching the small fluttery thing before it could start swirling around his head and got the letter off its leg, "I wonder why he writes me an owl."

Tom bit back a scathing comment about the redhead and just wordlessly patted the sofa next to him, kissing Harry's temple lightly as the Gryffindor sat down next to him and unrolled the paper.

_Dear H.,_

_I hope it is okay for you that Ron revealed your identity to me, but I can assure you, your secret is safe with me since I understand the need for you to protect yourself from any harm. But maybe I should introduce myself first: I am Jonathan Weasley-Ford, Ron's great cousin. Ron asked me to tell you about my pregnancy since you seem to find yourself in a similar situation. But first of all let me congratulate you. You might not think so at the moment, but it is a gift of the gods and is not given without a reason. _

_When I first found out that I was pregnant, I was about twenty and had just married Paul, my husband of thirty years and father of our son, Michael. I hadn't known I was a bearer and though we had thought about having a child with the help of a potion it was never more than a little dream we both liked to share. So you can imagine that it came as quite a shock to us. I think we spent about three days straight talking all the possibilities through as neither of us could really imagine having a child at that time._

_I guess it was my "mother instinct" that finally convinced me- and with me Paul- to keep it. He once said that you can't cheat fate and if you try you might be rolled over by a bus or get stuck in a gully. _

_I took my maternity leave from the book shop I was working in at that time since pregnant wizards are not to work at all during their pregnancy. If Paul had had his way I would have spent all those months in a bed, standing in a padded room. But as my sister once pointed out pregnants always get their way and so he also took time out and we rented this small house near the coast, where we're still living today. By the way, you can count yourself lucky that you have no sister since I had to make the experience that they are full of malicious glee to see a man suffer the same pain as they have to. It doesn't really matter if they already gave birth or not... After I gave birth myself I can relate to them much better._

_I should probably tell you that it's not all that bad, but I'm sure you have enough people telling you this already. At least I had a lot of people telling me this, in the lead my dear Paul. When I gave birth I could have killed him for causing me so much pain and I'm sure if I had had the energy I would have done so. It's horrendous and even my sisters had to admit that it looked much more painful than a female giving birth, though they also claimed that men just had no tolerance for pain. I could have killed them, too._

_The pregnancy wasn't easy, either, though Paul assures me that it was much worse for him. Maybe he is right. I craved something different each day and Paul had to travel for hours to get it for me and sometimes I didn't want it anymore when he finally returned. I had the worst mood swings and I remember one time in particular when I broke down crying because Paul hadn't done the dishes and when he asked what was wrong I threw the plates at him- he still has the scar on his arm where one of them cut him. After I was done I started crying again because I had hurt him. _

_I was also rather paranoid that he would leave me when I started to show and nothing he said could convince me that I didn't resemble a overweight hippo. _

_I realise that all this sounds little encouraging, but maybe the photo will help you. It's my little family, Paul, Michael and I shortly after the delivery. There's also another photo of Michael when he was about three months old. _

Harry carefully took the two photos, looking at the happy family. Jonathan and their son had the characteristic red Weasley hair and while Michael still had his baby blue eyes, Jonathan's were a dark green with grey specks. He looked exhausted, but happy nonetheless and lovingly squeezed the hand of the dark-skinned, tall wizard sitting next to him.

"Look", Harry handed the photos over to Tom after he had smiled lightly at the sleeping Michael with a stuffed dragon in his hand, "They love each other."

"That's nice for them", Tom stated sarcastically, "Oh, look another Weasley, one day they'll take over the world."

"One day you'll manage to keep such comments to yourself", Harry snapped, snatching the photos back and turned back to his letter, leaving Tom to think that he had just ruined what could have been a perfect moment.

_Being pregnant is no sugar-coated fairytale, but it is well worth it in the end and some of my happiest days were when Paul was taking care of me. Of course we were even happier when it was over and when we could hold our son in our arms. _

_I know what the statistics say, that half of the male pregnancy come to a bad end, but don't let that get to you, H.. It is quite an experience, but ultimately it depends on you and the circumstances more than on anything. And I have no doubt that with your history you'll make it. Be grateful for the chance to have a family, something, as Ron told me, you long for very much. Don't think about the probability rate of one of you dying too much. Everything will happen just the way fate has planned for us and those statistics mostly belie the strength of those pregnant, because even those who died or had to take the loss of their child endured far more than most wizards realise. I don't tell you this to frightened you even more than you most likely are already, but because Ron told me about your uncanny ability to blame yourself for everything that went wrong even if it wasn't even remotely your fault. Let others take care of you and the baby. _

_There are of course some rules you have to follow, for example to use your magic, which was my biggest problem, to eat regularly and healthier, to avoid stressy situation, which is a quite useless rule, if you ask me, because being pregnant is a stressy situation in itself. I'm sure you know by now not to come near any dangerous potions or to get in the way of stray curses, but if you ask me for advice there's just one I would give to you: Be egoistic. You are pregnant and everyone should be considerate of that. It's not your fault if you want certain things, it's not your fault if you're moody and it's not your fault if you are in pain. V. got you pregnant, he is responsible for it so he should cope with the consequences, he has to make sure you are happy and safe and could wish for nothing. It's his job. Be demanding. And if you don't get what you want, don't feel guilty for asking for it in the first place, but make him get it. Do whatever you feel like doing and don't let anyone forbid you something as long as it makes you feel good. You don't have to adjust, let them handle it. You only have to take care of yourself and the baby and that's more than enough. And that's something Paul said to me when I thought I was being too demanding so don't worry about being unfair. _

_Take good care of yourself, H., and if you should have anymore questions or just need someone to talk to, don't hesitate to send us an owl and if it's an emergency you can just Floo over. The address is Old Brandiff, 10, Coast Street. Family will stick together and we bearers do, too._

_Love, Jonathan Weasley-Ford_

"And did it help you?", Tom asked after a while, in which Harry had just sat there, looking once again at the photos.

Harry kept silent for a moment longer: "Can I have pancakes?"

"Sure", Tom answered concernedly, snapping for Dobby, who immediately plopped in with a big grin on his face, bowing deeply to Harry before looking directly at Tom, winking rather exaggeratedly: "What can I do for Master Tom, Sir?"

"Could you make Harry some of your pancakes, please", Tom ordered, nodding lightly at the elf, who finally stopped winking after that, "And bring all those toppings, too."

Dobby nodded and disappeared after a second bow to Harry, who suddenly threw his arms around Tom's neck and started to sob hysterically.

"Salazar, Harry, what is wrong?", Tom asked, shocked, tightening his arms around the small body, "Are you hurt? Is something wrong with that letter?"

"No", Harry shook his head lightly, "Why did you order those pancakes?"

"Because you wanted pancakes", Tom replied in confusion, "Did you want other pancakes?"

"Why didn't you make me answer?

"I thought that you might need time to figure something out, Harry", Tom carefully pushed a strand of hair out of Harry's face, "Do you want to answer my question now?"

"Jonathan said that Paul did everything for him while he was pregnant and that I should be egoistic, too, because it's all your fault and so you should bear the consequences", Harry answered quietly.

"Well, he's right, isn't he?", Tom smiled slightly, "I'm responsible for this situation so I'll do anything to make it easier for you."

"I don't want to be egoistic", the green-eyed boy pleaded with him, "I don't want you to be nice to me just because you feel guilty."

"First of all, Harry, you could never be egoistic and it would make me happy if you told me what you want instead of breaking down because you didn't get it", Tom argued mildly, tugging his small husband closer, "And I'm certainly not being nice to you because I feel guilty. I want you to be happy for reasons I'm not allowed to mention and I would do everything for you even if you weren't pregnant. Don't worry about this, it's okay to look after yourself for once."

Harry smiled cautiously up at him and the red-eyed man chuckled and chastely kissed the pink lips: "I would like some pancakes."

Tom's smile broadened and when Dobby came back with a tower of pancakes and all kinds of toppings, he watched in fascination as Harry once again put everything within reach on the first pancake.

"Do you want some?", Harry asked as he noticed his look.

"No, thank you", Tom shook his head lightly, "I'm perfectly content with watching you eat. Can I read this letter?"

Harry hesitated briefly, but then nodded, finishing his pancake as the Dark Lord took in what Jonathan had written.

"Maybe I should stay away from you during the delivery", Tom chuckled lightly, but quickly corrected his mistake when he noted Harry shrinking into himself, "I was kidding, kitten. I don't want to miss one single moment in the lives of the baby or you."

"How can you be so sure about this?", Harry asked unsurely.

"I'm not, Harry", Tom admitted quietly, drawing the black-haired boy closer, "I'm so afraid that I'll mess something up and hurt you. I don't want that. For once I want to do the right thing for the right reasons and the only reason why I try to act confident is the fact that I don't want to upset you."

"You don't have to...", Harry protested.

"Yes, I do, Harry. I will not risk losing you, precious", Tom took Harry's hands in his, "I know you are afraid of being a burden, but I want you to let me help you. I like to take care of you because it makes me feel good to know that you are safe and happy. I'll help you as much as I can, Harry. You don't have to go through this alone, little one, I'll take care of the both of you."

"How did you ever manage to become a Dark Lord with that attitude?", Harry laughed and Tom ruffled his hair affectionately before his nimble fingers found a particularly ticklish spot, causing Harry to try to escape from the strong embrace while he giggled uncontrollably.

"Stop", Harry pleaded breathlessly after a while, relievedly sinking back onto Tom's chest when the attack stopped, "Do you call that taking care of me?"

Tom nodded convincedly and Harry lightly hit him over the head before snuggling into the black robes.

"Don't get too comfortable, kitten. I want you to use some of your magic now", Tom stated when Harry's eyes drifted shut and carefully sat up.

"Don't want to", Harry mumbled sleepily, "Don't make me loose my temper and everything will be fine."

"Harry", Tom growled warningly and Harry sighed, slowly getting up: "It was worth a try."

"Are you up to a bit of training?", Tom asked again very gently, already weaving tight protection spells over Harry's slim form, "It would be a good way to work off your anger."

"I'm not angry", Harry argued stubbornly, "You are just annoying me."

"Oh, yes, that's something different then", Tom rolled his eyes, handing Harry his wand, "Attack whenever you are ready."

Harry grumbled displeasedly about being ordered around and Tom's weird ideas of making him happy, but nonetheless also performed some rather complicated protection spells on Tom, who just raised his eyebrows in response to that, before he threw a quick stunner at the resident Dark Lord, which was easily deflected and answered with a mild Slashing Hex, followed by a whole Body-Bind, which Harry both sent back at him.

Tom made sure not to use any curses that could penetrate his shields or do more than throw Harry a bit off balance as they continued and unknowing to him Harry did much the same. The reason why he didn't notice this was that he was trying to find the right words to approach the next subject. Really, how difficult could it be to be honest? A well-aimed Blazing Curse sent him stumbling back and Harry used the time he needed to regain his footing to bodily attack him, pushing him so that the both of them tumbled over the back of the sofa, Harry landing on Tom's chest once again.

"I win", he declared cheekily, kissing Tom's nose teasingly, "Now I am the Dark Lord."

"Oh, really?", Tom replied, quickly switching their positions so that now he lay on top, "Then why is it that I get the prize?"

"What prize?"

/You!/, Tom hissed seductively before pressing their lips together.

Harry purred happily, arching into Tom's hands as they gently caressed his stomach, and parted his lips in invitation.

"I think, I like it when you win", Harry voiced breathlessly after Tom finally drew back, allowing Harry to sit up, a satisfied smirk playing with his lips.

"Harry, we need to talk", Tom gently grasped his hand as Harry made to get up once more, pulling him back down on the sofa, finally deciding that it was now or never.

The green-eyed wizard fidgeted nervously and Tom was looking for the right words since the words he had worked out earlier didn't seem right anymore: "I'm sorry", Harry suddenly blurted out, "I'm sorry, I was so cheeky and I should have told you and I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you or anyone else. I'm sorry."

"No, Harry, I don't want you to apologise", he put Harry's hand in his own, squeezing lightly, "Please, let me finish. I needed the time yesterday to sort some things out. I'm a Dark Lord and I told myself that Dark Lords are not supposed to fall in love or even just to care about someone, they are not supposed to be considerate or to tolerate anything. And I was angry at you for turning me into this. I was angry because I thought I had given you so much and that you had given me nothing in return. I have always expected you to give me everything, to tell me all of your secrets without telling you anything of myself. Sure, I thought I had changed so much, had given up everything, but in reality I was still the same big-headed, egocentric whippersnapper, I still am. But I want to change that because you are my everything. I want you to be happy and so far I didn't do a very good job. That is why", he reached under the sofa and retrieved an old shoe box and put it on the table, "I will give you something, that is if you want to?"

"What is in that box?", Harry craned his neck and Tom laughingly opened it: "Memories. Not really secrets because I'm rather sure you wouldn't like my secrets, but at least a small part of my life. Do you want to see it?"

Harry nodded eagerly and cuddled a bit closer, peeking into the box. In it there was an assortment of photographs, letters and a few odds and ends.

Tom took out the first black-and-white photo with a flat, shabby-looking building on it and a railway in the background: "That's the orphanage I lived in for the most part of my life. The first three years I had been in another orphanage, but I don't know much about it. I never had a foster family and I never wanted one, either. There were rather wild stories going on about slave traders and drug dealers. Of course, they were always from those who came back from a foster family, who hadn't wanted them and they tried to make it seem like a huge adventure. There was an old woman in the orphanage, she mostly took care of the younger kids, her name was Berta. I really liked her, but well she was old and she went on a really long 'holiday' when I was about six. The man that came to replace her couldn't have care less about us and since then everyone had to fight for themselves. At first the older boys tried to pick at me because I had good grades and was a loner, but every time they tried something I had a bout of accidental magic and they soon learned to stay away from me", he carefully put the photograph into the lid of the box and reached for the next item, caressing Harry's pale face with his other hand, "My Hogwarts letter. Dumbledore was actually the one to pick me up and to bring me to Diagon Alley. I hated him, I hated everything about him. He was more concerned about showing himself than to help me find my way around. Everyone looked up to him and they all ignored me. I had been ignored all my life and I swore to myself that this would change", he pulled out the next item- a Wizarding photo of a young blond boy, Malfoy blond, "Adamus Malfoy, Lucius' father, he was a prefect when I started in Hogwarts and he was more or less the first person to take note of me. He asked if I was a pureblood. I concocted a whole tissue of lies, about my mother and my father and myself and every time I was close to being discovered, I made up a new one to cover the old one. I became pretty good with that and by my third year I had become kind of a mystery, a legend, no-one knew if what they had heard about me was true or not. Everyone recognised me, but no-one knew me. It was a thrilling experience", he took out the next photo, this time of a young wizard, with midnight-black hair and a rather big nose, "Serafin Snape, Severus' uncle. His mother died while he was still a child and Serafin adopted him. I have no idea about his father. We were in the same year and worked together if group work was required and I couldn't persuade the teachers to let me work alone. He was the closest to a friend I had. He was a lot like Severus, though not quite as brilliant with potion's and not quite as bitter."

"What happened to them?", Harry asked, staring at the two photos and looking for similarities.

Adamus and looked more or less like Draco looked now and how he imagined Lucius must have looked like during his time in Hogwarts and the only notable difference were the dark grey eyes, which were not quite as impressive as Lucius' or Draco's and somehow made him seem more strict.

"Adamus is still alive, as far as I know. But after the divorce from Lucius' mother he moved out of the country", Tom stated pensively, "They don't have much contact and I like Lucius far better than I ever liked Adamus. He is... I guess ruthless is the right word and he cares far less for his family than Lucius does. You can't trust him."

Harry nodded in understanding, looking once more at the photo before putting it aside and turning to the one of Serafin Snape. The two Snape men had a lot in common, the same tall and thin built, the same nose, the same coal-black eyes, but the boy in the photo seemed to be silently amused about something, his tie was slightly undone and he swayed lightly, as if he already consumed a bit too much alcohol.

"He was accused of having supported Grindelwald some thirty years after his actual defeat", Tom stated bitterly, following Harry's look, "They didn't even need any evidence, they just condemned him because he was a Slytherin and came from a dark family. They executed him a month after his arrestment."

Harry's breath hitched and he clutched the photo to his chest.

"Hey, I didn't mean to upset you", Tom called softly, gathering him in his arms, "It was wrong what they did, yes, but he was no innocent, Harry."

"It's not fair. I just hate to hear about such things", Harry sniffled.

"Should we stop?"

"No", Harry pulled himself together, "But can I ask you something? Isn't it weird to be friends with Lucius and Severus, after you most likely already knew them as babies?"

"You have a nice way of telling me, I'm old", he laughed, kissing Harry's nose to show him that he was only joking, "And to answer your question. No, it's not weird, I didn't know them as babies and not really as young men. I just got to learn them after I came back. So may I continue?", Harry nodded and so he extracted a bunch of letters, "They are all from my first girl-friend Trisha Dunken, a Ravenclaw. We got together in third year, I broke up with her a month or so afterwards, but she had formed a kind of obsession and wrote me all those letters. I don't really know why I kept them since I was so incredibly annoyed at that time- I guess I just liked the feeling of being loved or at least desired", he carefully observed Harry's mien for any sign of jealousy, but the small boy just skimmed through the letters, feeling the fine paper with his finger tips and so he got out the next object and handed it to Harry, "That's me with sixteen, it was for an advertising for jeans."

"Wow", Harry stared at the picture in awe; Tom was only wearing a pair of tight-fitting black jeans and a loose neck-tie, his chest was bare and slightly damp showing of his abs as he lay lazily sprawled in a posh leather armchair, "Were your eyes always red?"

He hid his disappointment that this was the only thing Harry had noticed and nodded.

"You looked damn good", Harry grinned shyly, "You still do."

"Thank you, Harry", he tenderly kissed the smaller wizard's cheek, "So do you."

"Is there something more in that box?", Harry asked despite his blush and Tom retrieved one more photo and a simple gold ring, "My father. I got it from his house as well as the ring, it was something he had promised my mother. Part of why I changed my appearance was because I didn't want to look like the man who had sired me. I had written him a letter, asking him if he would at least meet with me. He didn't answer and when I asked him in person once again, he told me that he didn't want to be contaminated by my disease. I don't regret killing him."

"Why did you change back if you hate your looks so much?", Harry asked curiously.

"Because I didn't want you to shy away whenever I touch you", Tom smiled gently, brushing his lips over Harry's cheek, "I never meant to scare you, Harry, please believe me. I hoped that if I didn't **look** like a monster I could persuade you that I **am** not a monster."

"I never thought, you were a monster", Harry protested.

"I know that now, too", the Dark Lord smiled soothingly at him, "But I'm still glad, I changed my appearance."

"Thank you", Harry snuggled into him.

He pulled out the last object, gently putting it in Harry's hand, "It was my mother's. I found it in the administration office and as soon as I saw it, I knew it belonged to me. It's an old heirloom of the Slytherin family. Slytherin himself created it for his soulmate", Harry's fingers gently brushed over the small silver trinket in the form of a snake with emeralds for its eyes, "I want you to have it", he closed Harry's hand around it, "Wear it when you have made your decision."

"I can't accept it", Harry tried to push it back into Tom's hands.

"No, Harry, it belongs to you now. If you don't want it throw it away, I won't take it back."

"Thank you", Harry finally conceded and carefully wrapped the small jewel in a handkerchief and put it in his pocket, "Thank you for telling me all this."

"I thought it was only fair since you had your secrets revealed", Tom explained, "Harry, I really want you to trust me, but I want you to do so willingly and not because you feel somehow forced or obligated to do so."

"The reason I didn't want anyone to know about this", Harry whispered, "Was that I was scared, I still am, Tom. I can barely stand myself, how can I expect others to like me? Yesterday I looked in the mirror, I didn't recognise the boy that was looking back at me, he was so different. I put up so many masks and told so many half-truths that somehow the real me had disappeared. And I needed that, Tom, while I was in the Wizarding World I was safe and I could be someone who wasn't scared, who wasn't abused. I didn't want Lucius or Severus to find out- it just happened, I didn't want to tell Blaise or Draco, but I had promised. It's not that I trust you less than them, Tom, please, believe me, I didn't want them to know. I just wanted to forget, I wanted it to be over...", Harry's eyes were swimming in tears, "Let me forget, Tom..."

The red-eyed wizard cradled the delicate wizard to his chest: "I would like nothing more than to undo everything, to make you forget and I won't bring this up again, but, Harry, I doubt that you will be able to forget it without facing your fears and your past and to talk about it. Not now, not with me, but you will have to speak with someone..."

"I can't break down now", Harry pleaded, "I'm pregnant, this is dangerous enough as it is, I won't add to that."

"I understand. I won't force you to relive any more bad memories and I won't force you to have sex with me ever again", Tom promised.

"I understand", Harry whispered brokenly, pulling away from him.

"No, Harry, it's not like this, beautiful", the red-eyed man argued, "I don't want to rape you. What I did to you this last month wasn't much better than what your relatives did. Lojack might not have found anything, but I did abuse you, even though you don't want to realise that."

"You don't want to touch me anymore", Harry whimpered, "Now that you know everything you hate me again because I let it happen. I'm so filthy."

"No", Tom forced him to look up again, "I want to touch you, but I want you to enjoy it, too. What they did to you was out of your control and it could never make you filthy. You are beautiful, Harry, you make me want to take you in my arms and kiss you until I'm out of breath and nothing anyone did to you was able to destroy that. I will never hate you, little one, please believe me."

"Then why don't you want to have sex with me anymore", Harry sobbed, clutching to his robes, "Why not? Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry..."

"Shh, because I finally realised how much I hurt you with it", Tom started to rock the fragile wizard gently, "It was wrong of me to demand such a thing from an underage boy, even if you hadn't been raped, Harry. I thought I could control you with it... I don't want that anymore. I don't want to scare you and I don't want this to hang over your head all week. There will be no consequences, I already said once that the contract is just a piece of paper. Please, Harry, don't take this as a rejection and please, don't try to convince me otherwise because I'm sure that I couldn't resist and then I would feel bad. I don't want to hurt or scare you ever again."

"Will you still kiss me?", Harry blushed crimson and Tom chuckled and engaged him in a fiery kiss, "And will you still touch me?"

"Of course, kitten", Tom whispered seductively, nipping Harry's ear before kissing him behind it while his hand wandered under Harry's shirt, "I will do everything you really want me to do."

Harry purred appreciatively, straddling Tom's lap, cocking his head to the side to give Tom better access to his neck, which was immediately covered with butterfly-kisses. There was a moment of heavy snogging and Harry's hand miraculously found its way into Tom's pants, wrapping timidly around the erect cock. Tom groaned in pleasure, briefly abandoning Harry's neck, before tugging Harry's shirt loose and starting to unbutton it.

"You will say stop, Harry", he commanded, looking straight in the emerald eyes, "You will not hide your feelings."

Harry smiled lightly, putting Tom's hands against his temples and pressing his own hands against them: "Do you want to feel what you are doing to me, Tom?", he purred lightly, releasing some of his emotions for the darker-skinned wizard: Gratefulness, relief, happiness, anticipation, trust, comfort, pleasure and only a tiny bit of nervousness; "Please, Tom, I will tell you when it's too much."

Tom nodded and allowed the petite wizard to stroke his very excited member while he slipped Harry's robes and his shirt from the small shoulders so that they pooled to his feet and then started to map Harry's chest with soft kisses. The green-eyed boy mewled happily as Tom found a particularly sensitive spot, trying to get more contact and impatiently pushed Tom's trousers down, rubbing more firmly over the heatened flesh. The red-eyed man longed for nothing more than to also feel Harry's smooth skin against his, to have nothing separating them anymore, but as his hand carefully glided up Harry's thighs and over his lap, the small boy winced and scared green eyes met his.

"Please, no", Harry whispered, once again taking his hands and this time Tom was hit by a whole wave of nervousness and fright.

Tom smiled gratefully at the petite wizard, stroking his stomach soothingly, before he kissed him once again: "Is this okay for you, sweetie?"

Harry blushed lightly, but nodded nonetheless, beginning once more to bring Tom to his climax with his small hands, while Tom stroked, and caressed and kissed every available part of his body, making him mewl and purr in appreciation.

"Does that prove to you that I still want to touch you?", Tom asked softly after they had both regained their breaths, pulling Harry to his chest.

Harry shook his head yes, snuggling closer to Tom, who pulled one of the blankets to cover the slight boy: "Thank you."

"If I do something that you don't like or that frightens you, tell me."

Harry nodded lightly before nuzzling Tom's neck and closing his eyes: "Just give me time."

"As much time as you want."

* * *

**Tada! We learned in our German class (yes, in rare cases we actually learn something) that this here would be called "retardatíon" or "retardierendes Moment" and in the next chapter (dramatic pause) there will be the "catastrophe"... So maybe, after you found that out you want to motivate me with your reviews so that I write faster... Who knows? Maybe St. Nicholas does...**


	50. Cause and Consequence

**Disclaimer: None of the characters belongs to me...**

**Author's Note: If you don't understand the chapter, I can't blame you. since it probably only makes sense to me... Anyway, this is IMPORTANT so would you please read it? This chapter contains RAPE and so I edited a part of it. The full chapter can be found on ForeverFandom or you can ask me nicely for it and I'll send it to you. I also realise that some people will hate me for this chapter, but I did warn you and I do have a reason for this. Anyway, I'll go back to answering your reviews now...

* * *

**

**50. CAUSE AND CONSEQUENCE**

And they kept their words. Tom gave Harry time, he didn't do anything to upset Harry and he did everything to prove his love, though never actually saying the words. He brought Harry flowers and chocolate and cards and everything his craving-influenced heart desired. He took him out for dinner, he cooked for the two of them, he asked him to dance, he made him use his magic and he put his jealously on a tight leash, only smiling when Harry went to spend time with one of his friends. He arranged for Harry to meet with his godfather and Remus at least once a week, mostly sacrificing their weekends together so that Harry could spent time with his family, which earned him more than one attempt of Harry to make it up to him and Tom had a hard time to get Harry to understand that he was only rejecting his advances because he knew that Harry didn't really want it.

Lucius talked to Percy and they came to an agreement after Percy had asked Harry's opinion. With the help of the Dark Order and the revised election campaign (which now included the equality of non-humans and magical creatures as well as a better education especially for Muggleborn students) Percy was appointed the new Minister of Magic on the 30th of October.

Mrs. Weasley was so proud that she briefly forgot to be angry at her son for co-operating with the Dark side, but she quickly regained her composure and Percy had to get an extra secretary to deal with her howlers.

Charlie wrote Draco almost every day and Draco answered just as diligently until the redhead finally asked the Slytherin out for a date. With a lot of persuasion from Harry, Blaise and Pansy and Ron's failed attempts to talk some sense into his brother Draco agreed to go and when he returned to school he was still smiling quite foolishly, as Blaise pointed out.

Gryffindor won the first Quidditch match of the season against Slytherin with 200 to 70 and Harry and Ron won 1 galleon each from Blaise and Draco and the smaller Gryffindor hit Draco over the head for telling Vince and Greg not to shoot at him.

Rudolphus, too, screwed up his courage and asked Severus out, who after a long shocked silence agreed with a cautious smile. They went on a double date with Rabastan and Sunny, who had hooked up in a course of one single week, and Rudolphus claimed it was his duty to keep his little brother safe.

Sunny after he had extracted from Rabastan the promise to not forget him went back to his clan and started negotiating with the other clans with the result that three-quarters now supported Harry.

Dumbledore had been silently shipped off to St. Mungo's and though Tom had to endure a long accusing silence followed by angry shouting for once again using Nagini to get his revenge, it didn't really dampen his mood that Dumbledore stayed in the hospital for over one month and that no-one seemed to be able or willing to make him responsible for it. Harry also calmed down eventually and though he clearly didn't approve, Tom didn't fail to notice that Harry was more relaxed during the headmaster's absence.

Since the old wizard 's return he had kept quiet, rather stumped that his perfect plan had backfired so badly, but already scheming again. Harry felt his eyes again and he had taken to eating at the Slytherin table just to avoid the Headmaster.

Most of Gryffindors had not surprisingly sided with the so-called Light side, condemning everyone who didn't whole-heartedly agree, which caused Madam Pomfrey to find her infirmary full of Gryffindors, who had dared to object to Hermione's and Ginny's rule. After a bit of to and fro, Severus offered for those secessionists to stay in the dungeons since that was the only part of the castle that could still be magically enlarged. So now Ron, Seamus, Dean, Lavender and two Seventh year girls had taken permanent residence in the dungeons and although Ron and Draco repeatedly clashed they tried to keep the peace for Harry's sake.

And Harry coped, he took care of himself, he used his magic more often and he didn't shut Tom out, trying to figure out his feelings (being an empath you would think that would be more easier, but it definitely wasn't).

It was the day of Percy Weasley's election and a day before Halloween. Everyone was kind of elated, some had known Percy in school and although no-one remembered ever liking him very much it was rather satisfying to be able to claim to know the Minister personally. It gave the students an air of importance and some envisioned where they would be in a few years in glorious colours. On top of that everyone was looking forward to the feast and third-years above (the third-years with even more enthusiasm) were looking forward to visiting Hogsmead.

Harry, Blaise, Draco, Ron, Pansy, Lavender, Theo, Vince and Greg all sat in the comfy armchairs in the Slytherin common room, finishing up on their homework or in Pansy's and Ron's case playing chess. Everyone had got used to Harry and his year mates spending their time in Slytherin and most everyone had forgiven him for winning in Quidditch.

Harry's hands were shaking from his earlier duelling lesson with Tom, in which he had used most of his magic, and he felt a little cold, but otherwise he was just fine. He had begun showing, though if he hadn't been so thin to begin with, no-one would have notice. Indeed, no-one but his closest friends and those who knew about the pregnancy had noticed the small bump, which had formed under his robes. Tom always put a hand on his abdomen, gently caressing the strangely sensitive skin. Also Harry had developed a great liking for anything with strawberries and of course pancakes and it never ceased to amuse Tom that he ate pancakes at least once a day. He was a bit irritated by the mood swings and always felt bad when he suddenly started screaming at Tom for no reason or worried him by sitting in a corner crying about something or other, but Tom was always there and when he was angry he let him scream and rant and when he needed to cry he took him in his arms and rocked him, promising to be there. And Harry slowly but surely fell deeper and deeper in love with him, just that he didn't realise it yet.

"Harry, is something the matter, mate?", Ron asked worriedly, when Harry suddenly stopped writing and instead stared out into space.

"Huh?", Harry looked really confused (and adorable), "I think I need to talk to you."

"Okay", Draco capped his ink well and put the quill on top of it, before he got up, Blaise did much the same and Ron had already put an arm around Harry's shoulders.

"Hey, not fair, why do they always exclude us?", whined Pansy, "And if you give up now, I'll win, Weasley."

"Because you're the best tattletale Hogwarts has to offer", Blaise said with a small bow, "Wouldn't do to tell you something which you would have to keep to yourself."

"And you are already checkmated", Ron said over his shoulder.

The four boys disappeared in Draco's and Blaise's room and closed the door behind them, activating the privacy spells.

"So what is it?", Draco asked, as Harry nervously paced in front of their beds.

"How do I know that I love somebody?"

"I'm not the right person to ask something like that", Blaise admitted, "My motto is at the moment: More sex, more fun. I don't think that would help you..."

Harry blushed at Blaise bluntness, but then turned to Draco, who was looking pensive: "You know there's the stereotype with butterflies in your stomach, you can't eat, you can't sleep and always want to be with that person. But I think that's what you feel when you have a crush, not when you really love somebody. I think it's different for everyone, but I'll tell you what I feel. I always want to be with him, and when he's not with me I'm constantly worrying about him. When he tells me about someone else I get jealous, even if it's just one of his brothers. I think he's the most beautiful person in the world and the thought alone can make me come in my pants. I don't know how to better describe it... It's a great feeling. Did it help you?"

Harry instead of an answer turned to Ron, who invitingly patted the bed next to him: "Sirius and Remus, they love each other, don't they?", Harry nodded at once and the redhead continued, "How do you know it? Do you need your empathy to tell you? Or is it just the way they look at each other and the way they touch?"

"I just know it, but I just don't know if I love Tom", whispered Harry, "I really want to love him and at the same time I'm so scared. I feel some of the things you described, but not nearly everything. I don't want to lie to him."

"If you want my advice", Blaise offered, "I think you do love him, Harry. I've watched you, every time he's near you your eyes light up and whenever he kisses you, you seem to be floating on a cloud of happiness. You stand up for him, whenever Draco or I or someone else says something negative you defend him. I've seen how the first thing you do in the morning is look for Tom and how you walk faster when we have Defence in the next lesson. There are a lot of such things. It's like Weasley said: You don't need empathy to tell that you love each other."

"Do you think it's wrong?", Harry asked unsurely.

"No, Harry, you deserve it", Draco hugged him gently, "And maybe he deserves it, too, if he can make you happy."

"You should tell him", suggested Blaise, "Why don't you tell him right now, hm?"

"No", Harry shook his head vehemently, "Can I sleep here tonight?"

"Sure, but..."

"There's something I need to do first", explained Harry and Ron seemed to be the only one who had expected something like this and nodded in understanding, "I'll tell him that I'll be staying here."

Tom wasn't too trilled, he never was, but he didn't protest and fetched Harry's things for the night.

"Tom, there's something else", said Harry hesitantly, fidgeting nervously.

"Okay, tell me", demanded Tom, "Can I do something for you?"

Harry nodded slowly: "I don't want to see you tomorrow, at all. I don't want to talk to you or kiss you. I don't want letters or flowers or chocolate. I don't want anyone to greet me from you. For this one day I want you to not exist, please?"

"Why, Harry, did I do something wrong?"

"Just, please, Tom", pleaded Harry and Tom nodded painfully, "Thank you."

"Severus, what did I do wrong?", it was the next morning nearly an hour before breakfast and Tom had woken the Potion's Master up to talk to him after he had unsuccessfully tried to find a solution on his own.

"You mean besides waking me at such an ungodly hour?", Severus was understandably not very pleased about this, "Tell me what day is it?"

"Thursday."

"No."

"The 31st of October."

"And?"

"Halloween, now could you just tell me what you're getting at?", Tom asked annoyedly.

"Halloween, the day of the Dark Lord's first fall", sighed Severus, "Now put two and two together and you get the reason he doesn't want to see you."

"I killed his parents", Severus had to bite his tongue to keep the sarcastic remark to himself, "Shit, he must think I'm an insensitive prat" – "And he would be right." – "Do you know if he does something that day?"

"I never bothered to find out", informed him Severus.

"I'll stay here", declared Tom, sitting down in Severus' armchair, "If he doesn't want to see me that will be best."

Severus only rolled his eyes and then went to the Great Hall to have breakfast. Although he refused to call it that he had a date later on with Rudolphus, who wanted to show him the new Museum of Oriental Magic in London. Harry sat at the Ravenclaw table next to Luna and Ron, who was trying to coax some more food into Harry, though they didn't seem to lead any form of conversation and he seemed to be fine if a bit subdued and so he turned back to his lover and enjoyed his breakfast, well as much as you can with a nagging voice in your ear, asking about certain absent Dark Lords. Yes, Dumbledore was still there, although Percy was already preparing his early (or not so early) retirement.

Harry stood up soon after, leaving Luna and Ron behind and using one of his shortcuts climbed up to the Astronomy tower. He locked the door behind him, not wanting to be disturbed by a snogging couple, and walked over to one of the pinnacles, looking over the lake and the Forbidden Forest. From that viewpoint he watched as everyone left for Hogsmead, until the flow of students thinned and finally dried out completely.

Sighing deeply he heaved himself up and took two black, long candles out of his robe pocket, fixed them on the wall and lit them with his wand after putting up an invisible barrier against the wind. He just sat there for a while, watching the small flames eating away from the candles, not thinking of anything, before he slowly tried to remember something about his parents. But there was nothing. He couldn't remember hearing them laugh or seeing them smile, only lots of green light and their screams. And so he imagined them. He imagined his beautiful fiery-haired mother, how she would smile at him and take him in his arms, telling how much she loved him. He imagined his father, who told him how proud he was and then they would laugh together. It was a nice notion and he kept it in his mind for a long while.

When the two candles had burnt down, he carefully unfolded his legs and left the tower with a whispered "I love you", imagining that the wind whispered an answering "We love you, too, son" in his ear. Harry wasn't really sure what he should do now, he had missed lunch in the Great Hall and all his friends were in Hogsmead. Tom was probably still in their rooms and he didn't want to see him, so he couldn't go there, either. And even if the other Death Eaters had been in the castle, he wasn't sure if he would have wanted to see them. No, he needed a place to think. He absent-mindedly traced the small trinket in his pocket. Yes, he needed to think about that. He tightly wrapped his hand around it.

He hadn't paid attention to where his feet were carrying him too lost in thought. Suddenly he was jerked into a room with such force that he landed on the floor with his face down. The necklace had slipped his grasp. The door was shut and immediately he felt like an immense pressure was put on his ears, like he couldn't breath anymore. _No air_. Something heavy landed on his back before he had time to react and he could feel hot breath tingling his neck, a thin rope was wound around his wrists cutting through the skin. Hatred, anger, jealousy,... lust.

"Oh, wow, seems like we caught something here", he would have recognised that high voice everywhere, "It's so nice of you to join us, Harry."

"What do you want?", Harry tried to at least turn around, but someone was still sitting on his back, "What do you want, Hermione?"

"Only what belongs to me and what you took away from me", she walked around him so that he could see her shoes, "You should have listened to me, Harry."

"I would have done so if you didn't love it so much to hear yourself talk", spat Harry and twisted around so that he now lay on his back and his bound hands, which was highly uncomfortable and enabled him to see who his attackers were- Hermione and Ginny, "Maybe you should think about the consequences before you do anything more, I won't protect you from Voldemort's wrath..."

The red-head looked a bit unsure and shifted a little.

"Don't listen to him, Ginny", sneered Hermione, "You know what he did to us, he betrayed us, he's just blagging. Put that in his mouth, so that we don't have to listen to his venomous tongue", she pushed a dirty handkerchief in her hand and then kicked against Harry's head, "Your precious husband won't help you this time, Potter."

"We have some things prepared for you, Harry", Ginny twittered, shrugging out of her robes, leaving no doubt what her intentions were.

The older witch smirked maliciously and kicked Harry in the stomach, so that he saw stars for a moment and curled up, only just seeing Ginny's eager face light up, when Hermione pulled something out of her robe pocket, "Well, what are you waiting for? I'm sure Harry is eager to know what we planned for him."

The tone of her voice caused him to realise that this was not a petty bit of revenge, not a way to scare him a little, not even to scare him a lot, no they wanted to break him. He struggled against his bonds, but his hands were secured in place and Ginny had taken hold of his legs. He tried to push her away with his magic, but all that it earned him was a dull throbbing pain in his head and Hermione's vicious laughter. He tried to kick Ginny away, but it was as if all the lessons with Rudolphus and Rabastan had fled him, the feelings wafting off of Ginny paralysing him. _No, not again, not in Hogwarts_. He closed his eyes as he felt his trousers being pulled down, cold air and callused fingers sending goosebumps over his skin.

"Didn't I tell you I would have you one way or another?", Ginny chuckled humourlessly as she opened his shirt and scratched the flat chest, "We could have been perfect, but you just had to destroy it again for your fame, Harry. We were meant to be, everyone knows that, I could have saved you, but you never gave a damn about us."

Hermione had got bored with just watching and had fetched a whip from a box in the corner and now lashed his calves, the only parts of his body she could hit without hurting Ginny, who didn't seem to mind at all and fished a big violently green dildo out of a box that stood next to her: "I hear you liked it up your arse", she whispered in his ear, "And who am I to deny you this. We'll both enjoy ourselves", she burst out into laughter, "Well, I will for sure."

**---EDITED SCENE: Here's a very short summary because otherwise you will be hopelessly confused: After Ginny had her fun, Hermione takes Polyjuice Potion with Sirius' hair and rapes him as well. They force him to say that he loves Sirius and that he is his little slut.---**

Hermione, after she had regained her breath, took hold of a beater's club, hitting every part of him she could reach. Ginny also finished and went to a corner of the small room only to return with a second club, filling the room with the steady sound of bones breaking.

* * *

**What do you think?**


	51. And Everything Comes Crashing Down

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

**Author's Note: Wow, so many death threats... Anyway, I thought I shouldn't make you wait too long and so here is the next chapter. However, I just found out that I have history test tomorrow so I have no time to answer your reviews now... Sorry.

* * *

**

**51. AND EVERYTHING COMES CRASHING DOWN**

Severus could justifiably say that this had been one of the best days of his life. They had eaten at a small private restaurant after the visit to the museum, talking about this and that, about old times and times yet to come. He reminded himself to thank Harry for persuading Rudolphus to ask him out. He would like to say that neither of them had changed much, that their relationship was as it had been, but they had both changed. Rudolphus had become more serious and more dependent on his brother, though the two had always been close, he still had an aura that made people turn their heads, but somehow it was more dangerous now. He himself was more self-confident (at least he liked to think so) and possessed the bitterness of an old man. But still they fit together, they were complementary to each other, maybe even more than before.

"Don't tell me you have been sitting here all day long", he said as he stepped into his rooms and found Tom sitting in the same chair as when he had left, "And they call me a stay-at-home..."

"Funny", Tom growled, moodily staring at the dying fire, "It wasn't my first choice, either."

"And why, pray tell, didn't you do something else?"

"Because Harry doesn't want to see me and when he doesn't want to see me I don't want to see him, either", scowled Tom, flicking a strand of black hair out of his face.

"Oh, of course, I forgot that the world was taken over by Harry clones", Severus muttered sarcastically, "Your lack of action now makes perfect sense, Mylord."

"It's kind of contradictory when you insult me and call me Lord at the same time, Severus", Tom finally looked up, "Since Harry insisted that you all call me Tom you should keep to that."

"Do you expect me to say it again just with a Tom at the end?", sneered Severus, "I fear it would destroy the nub and I'd much rather have an answer."

"I didn't know what to do", shrugged the Dark Lord, "I did all my work because I had planned to take him out. It's not as if I have any free-time activities Harry would approve of."

"So you sat in my chair all day long, staring at the fire."

"Very astute."

"And you plan to continue with it?", Severus asked disbelievingly and rather annoyed, "Why can't you sulk in your own room?"

"Firstly, I'm not sulking and secondly, because they are also Harry's rooms", Tom gave back.

"This is unbearable", the Potion's Master declared and opened the door, "You have to get out of here. I won't have you **sulking** in my rooms, let's go for a walk."

"Will you leave me alone afterwards?", groaned Tom and very slowly stood up as Severus nodded, "Fine, half an hour not longer."

"Why don't you visit Lucius?", Severus inquired as they walked through the mostly deserted hallways, "Or visit Slytherin Castle?"

"Lucius is negotiating with Weasley about some new laws and I went to the castle two days ago", answered Tom, "Besides no-one asked you to be my baby-sitter."

"Babies only seldom ask for baby-sitters, but that doesn't mean that they don't need one, isn't that right Mr. Olsen and Miss Vivit? Ten points from Hufflepuff and now do something that at least doesn't require the exchange of body fluids, since I doubt you'll ever do anything useful", the two busted Hufflepuffs guiltily shuffled away, "Tom, you should really stop drowning in self-pity."

"It's not self-pity and I'm not drowning", the Dark Lord protested as they turned into another hallway, "I'm worried about Harry."

Severus kept silent after this declaration and they followed the dark hallway, each dwelling on their own thoughts. Suddenly something caught Tom's attention, a small flickering green light in the otherwise dark corner. He crouched down next to it, now recognising that the small thing was partly wrapped in a white handkerchief and cautiously took it in his hand, bringing it back up in order to examine it in the light. His blood ran cold as he realised what it was.

"It's Harry's", he called out to Severus, who had walked a bit further before he became aware that Tom had stopped, "Something is not right."

The Potion's Master took one look at the small necklace before scanning the hallway. It was one of the parts of the castle that no-one ever used and it looked accordingly, the walls were bare and the corners were cobwebbed and dusty, showing that not even the house-elves bothered to clean here. His eyes halted at the only door around.

"Maybe he only lost it", he offered, "I'll check if he's in that room and if he is we can always leave him alone again."

Tom nodded, stepping into a corner so that he wouldn't be seen, and Severus after, deciding that it would be totally pointless to knock, tried the handle. To his surprise the door was locked, but a simple _Alohomora_ made it swing open.

"Shit, Salazar. Tom!", the smell of blood and sex wafted towards him like an eagre and he wanted nothing more than to run, but the sight paralysed his limps.

Three of his students were in that room. Hermione Granger, Ginevra Weasley and Harry Potter. The shock wore off and was replaced by anger as he saw the two pathetic excuses for intelligent life beat the small black-haired boy. He tore out his wand and the two Gryffindors were tossed against the wall, sliding down to the floor in two crumpled heaps. He looked behind him, looking into the ghostly white face of the Dark Lord.

"Snap out of it", he ordered while he handcuffed Harry's tormentors, "He needs help, now!"

Tom felt a slap in his face, breaking him out of his stupor, and he dropped to his knees next to his unconscious husband. There was no word to describe the state he was in. He lay in a puddle of his own deep red blood, his hands were chained over his head, his chest, arms and legs were practically crushed, the limbs falling in bizarre ways, his once pale face was wet, bruises forming around his jaw, his nose and his eyes, pain written all over it. He carefully freed his wrists and then gathered the barely breathing boy in his arms and ran towards the infirmary not looking back. He didn't stop, when he ran past Rudolphus and Rabastan, he caused a first-year to lose all her books.

"Pomfrey, now", he shouted as he very gently put Harry in his bed, removing the remaining rope as Madam Pomfrey bustled into the room, scowling in preparation for her lecture that died on her lips as she saw that the bedclothes had already coloured red: "Good Merlin, I need help. Floo St. Mungo's, now!"

Tom scrambled to his feet, almost stumbling into the next bed, as he hastened into her office and threw the Floo Powder into the fireplace.

"I need a healer, now", he stopped the next best witch that crossed his way, "And don't tell me that I have to wait if you don't want this whole stupid hospital to be blown up."

"Where's the patient, Sir?", asked the witch remarkably calm.

"In Hogwarts."

"Madam Pomfrey sent you?", he nodded briskly and the nurse freed herself from his grip, "I'll sent Healer Deacon over- if Madam Pomfrey calls it must be urgent...", she called over her shoulder and disappeared down the corridor.

Tom rushed back to Hogwarts, where Madam Pomfrey was rapidly casting spells on Harry, from whom he could only see blood-coated black hair.

"Ask Severus if he has made more potions for Harry", she suddenly called out as he carefully dared to approach, "And then wait outside. I can't allow your magic to interfere with this here."

He didn't dare to protest and darted outside, where he found not only Severus, but also Rudolphus and Rabastan.

"How is he?", they asked simultaneously.

"Bad. Severus, do you have anymore of Harry's potions?", he almost pleaded.

"Yes, I'll fetch them", the Potion's Master swivelled around.

"Take Rudolphus with you and inform Lupin and Black", he sighed before he slumped to the floor in an uncharacteristic show of weakness, "And hurry."

The two wizards disappeared down the corridor.

"Harry's a fighter, he will pull through", Rabastan sat down next to him and tried to comfort him.

"You haven't seen him, Rabastan", Tom muttered, staring dumbly at the small silver snake, "He was practically dead."

Rabastan said nothing for a while: "We locked them in the room. Should I go and try to find out what they did to him?"

Tom nodded absent-mindedly and Rabastan, too, left. But he was not long alone, before Rudolphus returned with a bag of potions, which he handed through a half open door- they both noted that the nurse's hands were smeared in blood.

While they waited, Severus Floo-called to Marauders' Reserve.

"Lupin, Black!", he shouted through the seemingly empty house, "This is important, damnit."

"Snape?", Sirius was only clad in pyjama bottoms and his hair looked slightly ruffled, "What's the matter?"

"It's Harry, he was attacked", Severus said urgently, "You have to come here."

The werewolf had appeared behind Sirius, slightly more dressed, though he was also missing his robes. He pulled his head back as Sirius stormed towards him and he had barely time to move out of the landing area before the Animagus stumbled out of the fireplace.

"Where is he?"

"In the infirmary", he was cut short by the arrival of Remus and they all dashed up again to where everyone was still waiting for news.

"They are gone", exclaimed Rabastan, when he returned sometime later, "Someone must have let them out."

"Not to worry, my dear boy", a cheerful voice made them all turn around in the other direction to where Dumbledore stood seemingly totally relaxed and at peace with the world and himself, "I released them, there seemingly was a little misunderstanding."

"They raped my husband", Tom hissed, advancing on the older man, while his magic surfaced, surrounding him with a blood-red light, "What is there to misunderstand?"

"Oh, I think you misinterpreted the situation", Dumbledore chuckled, "It is really sad how far Harry was willing to go to get away from you, Tom. Miss Weasley and Miss Granger merely did what Harry had explicitly asked them to do", he had drawn his wand, "You wouldn't want to punish someone who only helped a friend, would you?"

"You give yourself too much credit", Tom sneered, taking a step backwards, "They always say that you are the only one I was ever afraid of, but guess what? I never feared you, I never even respected you. You were only a nuisance, but now you are not even that, you're an old man who refuses to believe that he has lost", he jerked one hand towards the headmaster, little black and green snakes emerging from the palm of it and tightly wrapping around the old wizard, constraining him, "I wouldn't move, Dumbledore, or Nagini's bite will seem like paradise to you? This is just a preview of what will happen, should Harry die"/Get him out of my sight and don't let him escape, he will pay for this later/, the snakes transported the frozen body down the corridor.

The corridor once again lapsed into silence.

"Rudolphus, Rabastan search the room", ordered Tom over an hour later, "And contact Lucius."

They nodded and left, glad to have something to do. Remus had taken Sirius in his arms, who was crying silently, but not even Severus could muster up enough hate to mock him for it. He himself wasn't coping much better and Tom just continued staring at the necklace, running it through his finger, as if in silent prayer.

"Mr. Riddle", Madam Pomfrey stepped out of the infirmary, cleaning her hands on her already bloody apron, "I don't have the time to beat around the bush, so here it goes: Harry's injuries were so bad that only some obscure shields stopped the baby from dying. However, Harry is redirecting all his magic to protect the baby, which means that his own body will give out soon. I can save only one of them and I need your decision in the next two minutes. Should you chose the child, I'll keep Harry's body on life support until it is time to give birth. I could also both put them in a coma, neither can really live while the other survives", Sirius made a choked noise in the back of his throat and Remus shushed him, "You have to chose one of them."

The Dark Lord closed his eyes, futily trying to find another solution, but the only picture his mind was providing was Harry's tear-filled eyes when he would have to tell him that he lost his child and a picture of a child that looked identical to Harry, looking incredulously at him when he would have to tell him (in his imagination he had a son) that he allowed his daddy to die.

"Mr. Riddle, I need a decision now."

"Save Harry", he croaked out before stumbling to the floor and burying his face in his hands.

"Thank you", Sirius shifted out of Remus' embrace and sat down next to the Dark Lord.

"Harry will never forgive me."

"I think he needed someone who for once put his life before anyone else's", said Sirius quietly, "And Harry wouldn't want his child to live with the knowledge that their life was bought with the life of another. I think you made the right decision."

"Thanks."

Both black-haired men leaned back against the cold wall, staring fixedly at the once again closed infirmary doors. They had to wait another half an hour, before a man in his late fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair opened the door.

"I'm Healer John Deacon. Mr. Potter is awake now, but we will charm him into a healing coma soon. You can see him, but he's still in shock and his reaction might be very violent. I would suggest that not more than two visit him at a time."

"You two go", Remus motioned to Sirius and Tom, "Severus and I will wait."

They didn't need to be told twice. The hospital wing still smelled of blood and sex and Madam Pomfrey hadn't changed the bedclothes yet, though she had cleaned Harry's hands and face. It was a grotesque picture: one small pale boy in a bed of blood. Tom gently took the unbandaged left hand in his and Harry slowly turned his eyes on him. They radiated an eerie calm, but as he focused on him and saw the tears running down his cheeks, his eyes softened and the fingers in his hand almost imperceptibly tightened around his thumb. He slowly put his hand on the blanket over Harry's stomach, where two hours ago a healthy little child had been growing, unable to say the words.

"I lost my child", whispered Harry and he nodded, watching helplessly as Harry's beautiful eyes filled with tears: "I'm sorry."

Sirius had watched the exchange and, wanting to offer some sort of support, lightly put his hand on Harry's shoulder, hoping that he wasn't hurting his godson. Harry twisted around, ignoring the pain he must undoubtedly have felt, and his eyes were suddenly clouded with terror.

"No!", he cried and curled into himself muttering a litany of pleas neither of the two men understood, but served the purpose of alerting the nurse, who shooed them out: "I expected something like this, he is undoubtedly traumatised. I will call you once he's sleeping."

"What have I done wrong?", Sirius whimpered as the door closed behind them.

"It was just the shock wearing off or maybe your touch caused him to have a flashback", offered Tom, "It had nothing to do with you."

"Of course it did", Sirius all but shouted, "He was absolutely calm in your presence and it wasn't my touch. He was frightened, yes, but when he recognised me... it was worse, much worse."

"You're exaggerating", Tom scowled.

"Maybe he's not", Severus interjected, holding out a small potion's bottle, "Polyjuice Potion."

"What exactly are you saying, Snape?", Sirius stared at him.

"They used Polyjuice Potion, that explains why there was so much sperm covering him. Now who would they have transformed into to hit Harry the hardest? You, Black, I think one of them changed into you", the Animagus collapsed soundlessly to the floor, trembling like a leaf.

"Is there any proof for that?", asked Remus defeatedly, "Did you find something else in that room?"

"Someone wove a Anti-Magic Charm around the room that activated as soon as the door was closed", answered Rudolphus, "There where whips and bats and other toys. It was all planned very carefully."

"Where are they?", growled Tom, his magic surfacing once again and crackling around him.

"I had them arrested", a voice from behind them spoke up, "Alongside with Dumbledore after my **sister** confessed that they had done it on his orders", the new Minister declared, walking towards them with Lucius at his side, "How is Harry?"

"He's still alive."

"That doesn't sound very positive", Percy said, absent-mindedly fumbling with his glasses, "The Aurors are searching Dumbledore's office, maybe they'll find something that will help us. We found this brush in Granger's robes, can anyone make sense of it?"

"It's mine", Sirius sobbed and Remus gently rocked him: "It's not your fault. Harry knows that, he loves you. Shh, he needs you, don't give up like that."

The others watched on in sympathy as the Animagus cried into the werewolf's shirt, who could do nothing but soothingly rub his back.

"Minister", one of the Aurors had come up to them and Percy stepped over to him, waiting for the news, then he nodded and the Auror left.

"Mr. Riddle", Tom's head snapped around, "I have a message for you from Dumbledore: If I can't have him, no-one will. Have fun with your broken toy."

The Dark Lord gritted his teeth.

A nearby window shattered, the walls shook, the floor vibrated, just as Madam Pomfrey opened the door to the infirmary: "Control your temper, Professor Riddle, or I can't take the responsibility for letting you in to see him."

"I'm perfectly calm", Tom declared and brushed past her into the now clean hospital wing and sat down in the same chair as earlier, studying the small figure on the bed.

Harry's chest and his arms were covered in mint green bandages, the same tissue that was also wrapped around his head. The most part of his face was covered with healing salve. His one hand had been put in splints and lightly lay on his stomach, while the other lay lifelessly on the white blankets.

"We'll keep him in the healing coma for about five to ten days, depending on how good his body handles the medication", Madam Pomfrey explained when everyone had filled into the room, "At the moment we are working on stopping the internal bleeding. The green bandages and splints are at only there to stabilise the broken bones until we can fix them."

"Will there be any permanent damage?", asked Tom, struggling to retain his composure.

"That's hard to tell", Deacon said, "It all depends on how much Mr. Potter is willing to fight. A wizard's magic, especially of one as powerful as Mr. Potter, can right almost everything, but at the moment it's the potions we gave him that are healing him. We hope that it's only temporary, that his body hasn't realised yet that the baby doesn't need his magic anymore, but if it's not the consequences will be dire", Sirius sobbed and threw himself in Remus' arms, confusing the healer briefly, "As far as we can tell now there is no brain damage and his body should heal in time But you should definitely find a specialist to help him emotionally, there's nothing anyone can do if he doesn't want to live."

"Is there someone you could recommend?", asked Lucius.

"There are a few, but the most important thing is that Mr. Potter trusts them."

"Sarah Turner, isn't she a psychologist?", Remus asked and Rudolphus nodded: "I will apparate there and ask her, okay, Tom?"

Tom waved him away, not looking up from Harry's face: "Madam Pomfrey, do you think we should move him?"

"I would suggest so, yes", answered the nurse, "I think it will be best if he wakes at home..."

"Hogwarts was his home", Tom replied very quietly and the room lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.

"You can bring him to Malfoy Manor", offered Lucius, "He likes his rooms there."

"Mr. Malfoy, I don't think that's commendable", intervened the healer, "Most rape victims panic in too large surroundings. I would suggest something small, preferably with happy memories connected to it."

"Our house", whispered Sirius, "He can come to our house. I'll stay somewhere else."

"Black, come with me, now!", Severus ordered suddenly, pulling the Animagus to his feet, "And use your own feet, I'm not your donkey!"

Sirius spinelessly and stumblingly followed him, not even noticing the sneer on the Potion's Master's face that wouldn't match the slightly concerned look in his eyes as he led him down to his office. He was a Potion's Master and he would not allow a potion to ruin the life of one of his friends, because Severus knew without a doubt that without Black Harry wouldn't find the will to live. He tore one lanky black hair from his head and put it in the potion before handing it to the Animagus.

"Drink", Sirius didn't protest or really take in the liquid before gulping it down, coughing as the potion ran down his throat and then staring once again on the floor.

A shiver ran through his slender body as the potion took effect. His skin went pale almost shallow, his hair lengthened, his nose grew, his body stretched, becoming thinner and taller, his hands narrowed, the fingers thinned.

"What...?"

"Polyjuice Potion, Black", Severus sneered at his pyjama-clad doppelganger, "Harry is not afraid of you, he will never be, he's afraid of your looks. So I gave you an opportunity to be there for him without bringing back bad memories."

"Why?"

"Because I care for Harry, Black, and because to my sorrow you are the most important person in his life, if you hadn't noticed. You are his reason to live", retorted the Potion's Master, "Dumbledore knew exactly how to break him and you are the only one who can find all the pieces and put them back together."

"Thank you", to Severus' horror his long-time enemy was so overcome by emotions that he deemed it necessary to hug him, "I'll never forget this."

"Yes, this memory will haunt me for live", the real Severus pushed him back, "We are no friends, Black. And don't even think for one nanosecond that I did this for you or because I have a good heart. If you really want to thank me, put on some clothes. And should I ever find a picture of me in any kind of embarrassing position, you can find someone else to make the potion for you."

Sirius chuckled a little, smiling at Severus: "Thank you, Snape. Could I borrow some clothes?"

Severus grumbled something unintelligible, but fetched something from his bedroom, embarrassedly turning away as Sirius got changed.

"Never seen yourself naked before?", Sirius laughed as he tied his shoes.

"And I always had a brain in my head", Severus retorted, scowling at him, "You do remember your godson, don't you? Injured, unconscious,... ring a bell?"

"Yes, Snape", Sirius sighed and followed him out of the room, nervously running his fingers through his hair as they neared the hospital wing.

The door was once again closed and the two identical-looking men could hear soft voices talking.

"Normally I would suggest isolation for a period of time", Sarah explained to Tom, who still sat next to Harry, "But Harry never liked to be alone and it most likely wouldn't bode well with him to be locked in with only one person. Today they accomplished what the Dursleys tried for years, they broke him, shattered him and now he needs people to put him back together."

"So what is it we should do?"

"Take him somewhere, give him a room, where he can be alone, where no-one will disturb him and respect that", explained the empath, "He needs to come to you. Make sure he knows exactly who else is in the house and where exactly- no surprises. Those who want to be there have to be there constantly. Try to talk to him, but let him be before you upset him. Don't touch him, let him initiate all contact. Don't lose your temper, don't get angry, in the state he's in all negative emotions will be taken as a threat. There are some exercises to built up his trust, I will write them down for you."

She reached for the piece of paper Madam Pomfrey held to her and after a bit of hesitation started to write with the quill. When she had finished she handed the parchment back to the Dark Lord and stood slowly.

"You have to give Harry everything without expecting anything in return", she said seriously, "If you're not willing to do that you don't even have to start."

Tom nodded and folded the piece of paper, putting it in his pocket: "Thank you."

She smiled at him: "Harry knows what is best for him, your task is it to make him tell you. You can call me anytime you want, but this is something where he needs friends and not empaths. Once Harry is doing better Simon will come visit him, but right now his presence would only make Harry try to hold in his feelings for fear of hurting Simon", she walked towards the door, "I think I'll try this fireplace-thing now, it sounded rather interesting", the plump woman smiled at all of them and opened the door revealing two Snapes, "Oh, the last time I saw you, there was only one of you", she stepped around them, "In any case it was nice to see you again."

"Polyjuice", Severus offered to the questioning gazes, "Have you decided yet where to bring Harry?"

"If the offer still stands...", Tom asked the second Severus, who had sat down opposite of him.

"Yes, of course", answered Sirius emphatically, "Who else should come?"

"We want to come", Rudolphus and Rabastan declared immediately, "We've spent the better part of the last two month with Harry and Rudolphus has a degree in Muggle psychology."

"Really?", asked Tom surprised, "I never knew that."

"Well, it was kind of boring in Azkaban", Rudolphus stated wryly, "So can we?"

"How many rooms are in your house?", the Dark Lord asked, calculating.

"We have two guest rooms", informed him Remus, "But they're pretty large so if you shared, it would work out."

"Okay", Tom turned back to Madam Pomfrey, "When can we move him and how?"

"I would prefer to keep him at least over night until the internal bleeding stops", she answered, "After that you can Floo there."

Tom nodded: "Severus, can you make the necessary potions and send them over?"

"I intend to come with you", Severus replied grumpily, "Let's see if they can find another Potion's teacher as good as me."

"Very well, then I will go with you through the different potions Harry needs to take once he's awake", the nurse said and motioned for Severus to follow her into her office.

* * *

**Review?**


	52. Jigsaw Puzzle

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

**Author's Note: Hey there, here's the next chapter. Part of it was inspirated by one of your reviews, so if you recognise it, please tell me your name so that I can properly thank you. I can't seem to find your review #sigh#... nyway, thank you and now read the chappie...****

* * *

52. JIGSAW PUZZLE **

Seven days had passed and with the steady care of everyone in the house, Harry's bones had mended, his bruises had faded and the scars had disappeared. He was still pale and his muscles had softened, because he hadn't moved in the last week, but physically at least he was perfectly fine. Today was the day Severus had predicted him to wake up, but it was already past ten o'clock in the evening.

Following Sarah's instructions they didn't crowd the sleeping boy, only two people staying with him at the same time, though Tom and Sirius hardly ever left his side. The latter continued taking Polyjuice Potion every hour, though now that he wore his own clothes again, it was easy to tell the doppelganger and the original apart.

When Harry finally awoke Tom had gone to take a long overdue nap and so he awoke to the sight of Sirius and Rabastan, who were sitting in two chairs next to his bed. Sirius' head had sunken to his chest and his eyes were closed, showing just how long it had been since he had had a good night's rest, while the younger Lestrange carefully observed Harry's still form. At first he thought it were only his eyes playing tricks on hi, when he saw Harry's fingers twitch, wrinkling the blanket a little, but then Harry's eyes slowly fluttered open.

"Welcome back", he whispered so as not to startle the violated boy and the eyes focussed on him, "How are you feeling, Harry?"

"Rabastan?", Harry's voice cracked at the second syllable, "What happened?"

"You were attacked", he gently squeezed Harry's hand, "But you're safe now and we'll fix you up."

Harry closed his eyes as the memories of that day came back to him, like a herd of panicked gnus and he pulled the hand back, curling up with the back to the two wizards: "No."

That desperate cry woke Sirius from his slumber and he shot out of his seat, as he assessed the situation.

"Harry?", he called softly and the gentle voice seemed to calm him down a little, "It's me, Sirius."

"NO!", Harry wailed, backing away into the corner of his bed, "Not Sirius, go away. Leave me alone, I hate you..."

"But..."

"There's no point, Black", Rabastan grabbed his arm, "He needs to calm down first. Come on."

The others, woken or alerted by the scream, stood in the hallway and Remus took the crying Animagus in his arms: "He can't even stand to hear my name! He hates me!"

"Let's go down and have some tea, okay?", Remus resolutely led him down the hallway and down the stairs to the kitchen, the others following silently.

"It's most likely a form of self protection", Rudolphus said after a while, "Weasley sent me a copy of the interrogation of Weasley and Granger. They told him how much he's hated and what a disappointment he was. So now he tries to convince himself that he doesn't need you and that he hates you as well", everyone around the table looked weirdly at him, "What?"

"Nothing", Sirius straightened up, "What are we supposed to do now?"

"We wait", declared Tom, "I will have some coffee", now it was his turn to be stared up, "I didn't sleep more than six hours it the last few days- I think, I'm entitled to a cup of coffee now."

They all ordered a cup of coffee or tea from Dobby, who had followed them here, and then sat mutely at the old worn table, neither having the energy or the strength to start a conversation. Sirius was leaning heavily against the werewolf, berating himself for being so weak and breaking down while he should be helping Harry. Tom had put his forehead against the table, trying to inhale the coffee that he held in his hands. Severus and Rudolphus had linked their hands under the table and Rabastan was staring fixedly at the clock opposite of him, counting the seconds and minutes until the minute hand had wandered over 180 degree.

"Hey", Harry slunk into the room, closing the door behind him and leaning against it to prevent himself from fleeing.

"Hey", Tom smiled reassuringly at him, "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine", Harry said automatically before he noticed that he was relapsing into old habits and, smiling apologetically, he corrected: "No, I'm not fine. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Harry", said Sirius, "Never believe that."

Harry cocked his head as he received the pattern of emotions that was so characteristic of Sirius from someone who looked exactly like Severus. His eyes searched the room, landing on the Potion's Master and then back to Sirius.

"Thank you, Snuffles, I love you. I'm sorry I said that earlier."

"I love you, too, Harry", Sirius smiled gently at him, "Do you want to sit down? I'll make you pancakes."

He stood up, offering Harry his seat, but Harry shrank away, fumbling with the door: "I can't do this, I just can't", and he bolted out of the room.

"Four minutes", stated Rabastan, "That's about twice as long as the first time."

"I think we should all go to sleep", the werewolf declared and grabbed Sirius' hand, "Harry will need time to sort this out for himself."

"I'll stay down here", Severus returned and the others reluctantly went to bed.

Harry stayed in his room for over two days, not touching the food Dobby magicked into his room, mostly just staring at whatever happened to be in front of his eyes, crying all the tears he had and then continuing to sob dryly. He couldn't believe that Hermione and Ginny had done this to him, that they hated him so much, that he had lost his child. Hogwarts had been his home, his refuge and they had destroyed it, they had destroyed him. He could tell that someone was always sitting in front of his door and that they were worried about him and that the worry grew steadily, but he couldn't bring himself to face them yet. The day in the kitchen had scared him in ways he wasn't likely to ever understand completely let alone be able to explain it to them.

Unknown to him the other persons in the house were hit by waves of emotions when ever his feelings very particularly intense. First there was pain, pain so strong that Rabastan tumbled to the floor, clutching his chest as the first wave hit him. Then came sadness so all consuming that even Severus' had tears running down his face. And the last emotion was anger, which not only caused them to irrationally shout at each other, but was accompanied by a tidal of raw magic that shattered all the windows one by one before it disappeared.

After that last wave they sat in uncomfortable silence, since no-one was willing to apologise for the earlier insults, waiting if yet another wave would follow.

"I guess, that's a good sign", Remus sighed after a while, slowly massaging Sirius' scalp, "At least he let it all out."

"He never did this before, did he?", Severus asked and Sirius shook his head: "One time when he was a baby. He helped me find Remus."

"How?", Rudolphus asked, kneading his hands.

"It was after the full moon, but I had forgotten", Sirius murmured, "Harry hit me with a whole wave of worry and then he gave me his wolf plushie before he fell asleep."

"You never told me this", Remus said reproachfully.

"I wasn't very proud of the fact that I had forgotten you", the Animagus growled testily, "Besides, I always thought, I was imagining things until now."

"He did this to me, too", Tom muttered more to himself, "I just remembered. When I tried to kill him, that's why I couldn't."

"Oh, yes, blame the baby for it, why don't you?", Sirius spat.

"I was merely stating a fact", Tom sighed, "Look, Black, we are all on edge right now, but..."

Tom's speech was interrupted by the sudden flaring of the flames in the chimney. Three wizards stepped through the fire, one being the new Minister of Magic, looking grave and mildly sick. He was framed by two Aurors, who immediately pointed their wands at the Dark Lord upon arrival.

"Mr. Riddle, we have reason to believe that you assaulted the arrested Albus Dumbledore, Hermione Granger and Ginevra Weasley", Percy stated, "You are temporarily arrested."

"I did what?", Tom seemed highly amused.

"You assaulted the aforementioned prisoners", Percy looked quite the opposite.

"I gathered that much, but I was wondering what exactly I supposedly did", Tom smirked in anticipation, "And when for that matter."

"Mr. Riddle, I neither have the time nor the mind to play this game with you", Percy scowled at him, "If you would kindly hand over your wand now?"

"I have no intention to do that, Mr. Weasley", Tom answered coldly, "As much as I wanted to take my revenge on those beasts, I didn't because Harry needs me here. I didn't leave this house in the last week at all so your accusations are quite unfounded."

"Can you confirm this?", Percy asked the others and got several nods in return, "Very well, I'm apologise for the interruption. Please, say hello to Harry from my brothers and me."

He made to turn away, but if he thought, he could avoid telling them every little detail about this assault, he was sorely mistaken: "Mr. Weasley, what happened to them?"

"They were", Percy took a deep breath, grimacing in disgust, "Castrated. Only half an hour ago."

After a short silence, the Slytherins and Sirius snorted and though Remus seemed to share Percy's disgust you could also see grim satisfaction in his amber eyes.

"And you have no idea who did this?", the werewolf asked.

"Their descriptions were rather unhelpful, though they are in agreement", Percy sighed, fumbling with his glasses, "They all talked about a rush of magic that maimed them. There were no signs of a forcible intrusion, nor any sign that someone was there other than the fact that they are castrated."

"Harry", Sirius and Tom whispered at the same time, but Percy had already turned away and made to follow the two Aurors back to the Ministry: "I apologise once again for the inconvenience. Good afternoon, gentlemen."

"Harry finally snapped", Sirius murmured when the Ministry officials had left, "Merlin, this is not good."

"They deserved it", Tom growled, but Remus shook his head: "Harry is not like you, Riddle. He can't deal with causing others pain, he will regret it and blame himself."

"Hey", Rabastan walked into the room after his shift of watching Harry, stretching his sore back, "Who's next?"

"I'll go", Rudolphus got up, "Did Harry eat something?"

Rabastan shook his head sadly: "I think he finally fell asleep, about an hour or so ago."

The older Lestrange nodded before he went upstairs to sit in front of Harry's room.

"I don't think, Harry knows about that", Severus mused a while later, "If he did, he wouldn't be peacefully sleeping in his room."

"Then what happened?", Remus asked, "I mean, we all agree that it was Harry's magic, don't we?"

"Harry's baby", Severus muttered, "It was his mother instinct, taking its revenge for a lost life. The magic he had stored to support the baby was send out to protect him and because it was mixed with his feelings it managed to travel so far and to attack them. That's why Harry is asleep now."

"Maybe it's just me, but that doesn't sound like it would keep Harry from blaming himself once he finds out", Tom returned.

"Technically it is a good thing because it means that his magic realised that the baby is gone and can therefore work on healing Harry himself", Severus offered, "And we don't exactly have to tell him what happened to them, now do we?"

The three Slytherins shared a smirk and although Sirius and Remus seemed rather doubtful they didn't protest, either.

At the end of those two days- it was evening once again and Sirius was the one sitting in front of his door- he mustered up his courage and cautiously opened the door.

"Snuffles", Sirius' head snapped up from the book he had been forced to read by Remus, because his fiancé thought, it would help him understand Harry's situation, but in the first three chapters he had only learned that Whizzing Whisbies and alcohol don't mix well and that dark alleys should be avoided under all circumstances, "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Of course, Harry", he said softly putting down the book, "Do you want me to come in?"

"No, I'd rather you didn't move", Harry pleaded, letting out a sigh as Sirius sank back into his chair, "I want you to know that I really love you and that this is absolutely not your fault. But I'm still scared, I know it wasn't you who said all those things and did this to me, but every time I hear your name I can hear her words again and it kills me. They made me say your name and it hurt so much. I thank you for taking Polyjuice Potion and it makes it easier, but I recognise you by your emotions and every time I feel them it somehow connects in my mind and then I'm back in that room. I don't want you to leave because I need you so much and I can't live without you, but please, Snuffles, give me time, please?"

Sirius once again had tears running down his face as he nodded: "I love you, Harry, and I'm trying very hard to understand, though I probably never will. I will do anything if it helps you. I don't want you to tolerate my presence only to not hurt my feelings. If you want me to do something, just tell me. I'll always be here for you and I would never think of you like they wanted to make you believe."

"Thank you, Snuffles", Harry smiled hesitantly at the older man, "Can you say hello to them? I need a bit more time for myself."

"Of course."

Two more days passed, during which Harry at least ate again, before he finally stood in the living room, pressed against the door, while Rudolphus, who had been watching his door and had walked down in front of Harry, sat down on the sofa.

"Hey, little one", Tom greeted gently, holding himself like everyone else perfectly still, "Is there something we can do for you?"

"Can you just ignore me for a while, let me sit here so that I can get used to being around people again?"

Of course, awkwardness didn't fail to make an appearance as everyone tried to act naturally and to ignore the silent boy, who had moved to a chair that stood aside from the others, but they all gave their best and about two hours later, when Rabastan had just decided that he very urgently needed to go to the loo, Harry warily stood up and wordlessly edged out of the room, a huge wave of gratefulness hitting them.

It continued like that for several more days with only one little incident when Remus' book slithered from his hands and landed on the floor with a low thud, causing Harry to panic and hide in a corner for over one hour. Harry would come down somewhen in the morning and sit in a corner, quietly observing them, then eat lunch in his room and come back down in the afternoon. With every meeting his posture became more relaxed and he didn't shy away anymore from eye contact even going so far as to smile a little when someone caught his eye.

Finally one afternoon, when heavy rain was pounding against the windows making a conversation practically impossible and after Harry had stood on the porch, getting sufficiently soaked, the small boy very cautiously moved his chair closer to the fire and therefore closer to the other wizards, shifting uncomfortably until he eventually slipped to the floor and sat down cross-legged.

"Thank you", he said again sometime later, "I needed this time to figure some things out."

"Do you want to tell us what decisions you made?", Remus asked gently, wishing nothing more than to take away the pain from his cub.

"I want justice", Harry stated very quietly, "I want a trial. And then I want to heal."

"They are in custody right now", answered Rudolphus, "The trial was set on the 20th, that's in three days."

"Okay", Harry nodded, "What's with Dumbledore?"

"He was arrested as well since they have evidence that they did it on his orders", Tom returned, only barely holding back his anger, "His trial will be directly after theirs."

"Okay", repeated Harry, "Can I speak with Tom alone for a moment?"

There was a rather loud shuffling of feet and Harry shivered involuntarily, but pulled himself together, looking straight at his husband: "I know that you blame you for what happened, as does Snuffles, as does everyone else to a certain degree, but it was not your fault, Tom, so please stop with it."

"You don't know what you are forgiving me for", Tom murmured, "I killed our child, Harry. I had to choose between you and the child and I couldn't let you die. I broke my promise to never hurt that child. I broke the promise not to let something like this ever happen to you again. I'm not a father, Harry, maybe I could have learned it with your help, but without you I couldn't have given them the life you would have wanted for our child..."

During his speech Harry had slowly crawled towards him and nuzzled his leg: "I'm not a father, either, Tom. I can't even imagine how hard it must have been for you to make that decision, I can't say I would have made the same choice, but that doesn't mean anything. Please, stop blaming yourself."

"I will try, Harry", he promised, "And I certainly don't regret that choice, but I was scared that I had lost you forever, I still am", he slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out the silver necklace, "I found it in front of the room- without it we wouldn't have gone looking for you. I can understand if you don't want it back."

"When I lost it I had reached a decision, Tom, but now I'm not sure about anything anymore. I need more time."

The red-eyed man very gingerly placed the trinket in Harry's small hand, caressing the milky white skin in much the same manner as three month ago: "You have as much time as you want and if I have to wait for the rest of my life."

"Tom, I haven't given up yet", the green-eyed boy whispered, "But I need you, all of you. And I want justice for my child. And for Sirius. And for you."

"Don't you want justice for yourself?"

"No, I already have everything I need for my happiness", Harry smiled up at him, "I just need to put all the pieces together. That's what I did during the last week, looking for the pieces. Good night, Tom."

"Good night, kitten."

He intently listened to the soft footsteps, glad when the door to Harry's room clicked shut without anything happening. Tom then turned to the fire, chastising himself for forgetting to ward it as soon as they had arrived. Anything could have happened! And Harry would surely have panicked if he had been here during Percy's visit. He made sure that no-one could floo in without the permission of someone in the house before he went upstairs to his room.

His and Severus' room to be exact, but the Potion's Master was either spending some time with Rudolphus or had decided to work on another potion. Abraxas, Lucius' owl, was still waiting for an answer. He had brought them not only Lucius' concerned inquiry, but also three very frantic notes from Harry's friends, demanding how he was doing. Hedwig was also waiting, looking at him with understanding amber eyes that seemed too knowledgeable for a bird. Tom had the feeling that she had spent most of her time watching over Harry from outside the window and had only come in for a bit of water and a few owl treats.

He once again read through the letters before he made to answer them. Lucius had forgotten to put the date on his letter, which alone showed his great agitation when he had written that letter. It was one long paragraph also quite uncommon for Lucius' letters and though every single letter radiated elegance and nobility, they didn't seem to fit together. Blaise and Draco's letters weren't much better and ended quiet abruptly while Ron's letter was barely readable and he had needed Severus' help to decipher it. They all asked the same questions, though: Was Harry alright? Could they do anything? Had he woken yet? Did they need anything? Could they come visit? And so he just composed one short answering letter, copying it for all of them (Lucius would consider this a terrible insult) and sent them back with Lucius' owl. He then made to write a second considerably longer letter. They would pay! He would make sure of that!

* * *

**Okay, I would like to hear your opinion on something. The next chapter will be about the trials, but for the one after that I have two versions...**

**The first one is rather dramatic and Tom totally messes up, but in the end everything turns out just fine...**

**The second one is less dramatic, Tom realises his mistake in time, but it's also a bit shorter...**

**I had only planned the first one, but since I already put Harry through so much, I thought I should ask what you want...**

**So, I hope you review...**

**Thank you...**


	53. Trials

**Disclaimer: I know it must be a shock to you, but all the wonderful characters belong to J.K.Rowling- except Sunny, he's all mine.**

**Author's Note: Yes, yes, I know it took me long, but here's the long-awaited revenge... **

**Oh, and sorry, I haven't answered your reviews yet, but I still have to wrap all the presents for Christmas and think of a few others. And someone pointed out that I should update more often and shouldn't demand that you review. Well, I'm sorry I can't update as regularly as I used to, but I have a lot of other things to do and I think it's not too much to ask that you tell me what you think. **

**Well, anyway, since this is the last week of school this year dances around the table and since I have no more tests hops on the table, I think I could manage to update every two days... Better?**

**Oh, and you can now read all the edited scenes on adultfanfiction . net.

* * *

53. TRIALS**

The day of the first trial, against Ginny Weasley, approached sooner than Harry would have liked. Sure, he had said all those things and for that one conversation he had managed to push his fear into the background, but that didn't alleviate his fears. He had hugged Sirius the other day, from behind so that the Animagus wouldn't be able to hug him back and he had relished in the contact, but from everybody else, including Severus, he shied away and the only contact he had with Tom was pressing his hand from time to time. Still, he had to flee back to his room more than twice a day, though he made sure that no-one saw it as what it really was: anxiety attacks. He still zigzagged in the hallways so that he wouldn't have to pass the doors directly, he still bolted at every loud noise, he still cried himself to sleep and he still had to put Silencing Charms around his bed to keep the nightmares a secret. And despite all this, he knew as well that everyone in that house knew what he was doing, that he was hiding again and he knew that he would have to give up on it soon. But not quite yet. Not as long as Dumbledore was still there.

Yes, he certainly had all the pieces, but they were all jumbled together, some had dog ears and others were covered in dirt or blood, and some pieces didn't belong to the picture and had to be disposed off, like for example his fear.

But the 20th came and Harry put on his best pair of trousers and his best shirt and threw ordinary black robes over them, remembering his own trial of the beginning of his fifth year. This memory didn't dwindle either when Percy's personal secretary led them to the same courtroom after they had flooed to the ministry. His six guardians warded off any reporters that crowded in the Atrium since the only reporter allowed into the courtroom itself was Sirius as Harry's godfather and he grabbed Sirius' hand on the right and Tom's on the left, drawing support from their presence.

The young ministry witch led them to the long bench in the very front of the room that was separated from the others by a small railing, where Lucius was already waiting for them, smiling reassuringly at the small boy, who half hid between the taller wizards.

Harry would only stand up as a witness since the magical prosecution department had adopted the lawsuit. Nott had offered to support them and was now sitting with the other lawyers. In the other row of benches to his right, sat the considerable dwindled Weasley clan, only Mr. And Mrs. Weasley, he could feel their eyes boring into him and he slid closer to Sirius, who slowly put an arm around his shoulder, but he still couldn't help but feel sad for them that they had more or less lost all of their children- and all because of him. And now he would steal Ginny from them, he could understand their hatred towards him.

"The case is rather easy", Lucius informed them, "Weasley made a full confession and pleaded guilty. Her lawyer wants an Azkaban term of eight years under appeal on youth custody. Amelia Bones is presiding her and Granger's trial, but for Dumbledore's the whole Wizengamot will come together."

"Please, rise for the venerable High-Judge Bones", a cranky voice announced suddenly, making Harry wince before he pulled himself together in order to be able to stand up.

Amelia Bones, Percy Weasley and two other judges entered the room from the door behind the long desk and except for the new Minister, who took a seat at the left end of the table, they sat down in the high-backed chairs in the middle, opposite of the dock. They shuffled a while through their papers before setting them down and expectantly turning to a small iron side door.

"The accused Ginevra Molly Weasley", the same cranky voice said and Harry realised that it came from the wizard to Madam Bones' left as the iron door was opened and Ginny stumbled into the room, framed by two Dementors. Harry heard Mrs. Weasleys half horrified, half indignant cry. Ginny was pushed into the chair he had sat in a good year ago, but this times the chains not only rattled, but strapped the red-haired girl to the chair.

The cranky-voiced wizard stood slowly as if every single bone in his body protested against the movement and began to read the bill of indictment: "The following deeds are held against the present Ginevra Molly Weasley: deprivation of liberty, bodily injury and rape of the also present Harry James Potter. You will be judged by the Juvenile Magic Court, what do you plead?"

"We plead guilty, your Honour", the shabby-clad lawyer declared next to Ginny with a self-confidence that surprised Harry, "My client is willing to co-operate with the authorities and will make a full confession. We also ask to take the violent attack on my client five days ago into account."

"Miss Weasley, with the agreement of the magical prosecution department you can take the witness stand", Madam Bones stated and after the lead lawyer had agreed, Ginny was freed from her chains and staggered over to the small box on the right side, one arm protectively pressed against her stomach as if she was in pain.

At first Ginny's voice quivered as she began talking and she refused to look up, but after a few sentences her voice gained volume, though she still stared fixedly at the desk in front of her. No-one interrupted her as she described, how she and Hermione had prepared the room and the potion, how the Headmaster always checked on their progress, finally telling them that the Anti-Magic wards had been placed around the room, declaring that it was time. Her voice faltered as she talked about her own deeds, what she had done to her brother's best-friend, but she didn't stop until she had completed the confession.

"Your witness, Mr. Sire", Ginny's lawyer said, taking his seat as the attorney planted himself in front of the youngest Weasley child: "Miss Weasley, is it true that Mr. Potter spent some time at your family's home?"

"Yes."

"Would you call Mr. Potter a friend of yours?

"Yes, he loved me", the witch regained some of her smugness.

"What impression did he make on you?", the attorney ignored the second part of her answer.

"Polite", Ginny answered hesitantly, "And nice."

"And what happened to your view on him that caused you to rape him? Did he maybe insult you or left you alone in a situation when you needed him?"

"No."

"So you woke up one morning and decided that raping was a nice demonstration of your friendship, did you?"

"No, damnit. We were meant to be with each other, everyone knew it, only he didn't realise it", snapped Ginny, "I wanted to show him where he belonged! Those Death Eaters brainwashed him."

"And how exactly was raping supposed to bring him 'back'?", the attorney asked quietly.

"It wasn't rape!", the witch snarled infuriated, "Harry would have wanted to if he hadn't been under the influence of a potion or the Imperius."

"Madam Pomfrey sent us the written testimony that Harry Potter was not under the influence of any potion or curse", Percy spoke up in a neutral voice, "Do you have anymore questions, Mr. Sire?"

"No further questions, your Honour", the attorney declared, stepping back and Ginny slumped in her chair.

"Mr. Potter, would you like to add something?", Madam Bones inquired, looking at the covering boy.

"Everything I remember happened like she said", Harry answered.

"Miss Weasley you have the final word."

"I don't regret it", Ginny sneered, ignoring her lawyer, who gesticulated furiously, "I enjoyed it", she laughed almost happily, before her lawyer hit her with a Silencing Spell.

"The court will retire for deliberation", Madam Bones and her two colleagues stood and disappeared through the same door that they had come through earlier.

Harry closed his eyes, trying to forget where he was, imagining to lie somewhere on a sandy beach. Not ten minutes later the judges returned and they were asked to stand up for the sentencing, which was a lifelong sentence in prison. Until her coming of age Ginny would spend the time in juvenile prison without Dementors, but after that she would be shipped off to Azkaban to the high-security tract.

Their bench waited till everyone else was gone, the others shielding Harry from any well-wishers or furious Weasleys.

When Lucius went to leave Harry tugged Sirius sleeve and whispered: "Tell him that I'm sorry. And that I thank him and tell him to say hello to Draco and Narcissa, please?"

Sirius nodded and slowly, so as not to scare Harry, stood up and caught up with Lucius, who was talking to Nott.

"Malfoy", Lucius turned around to see one of his best-friends and raised an eyebrow.

"Black."

"Yes, Harry sent me. He said to thank you and that he's sorry. And greetings to Narcissa and your son."

"How is he?", Lucius asked, disregarding that he just had a civil conversation with the Animagus.

"He locked himself in his room for the best part of this month. He doesn't allow anyone but me and Riddle to touch him and he's more frightened than I've ever seen him, but he tries at least", Sirius sighed, "Could you maybe tell his friends to write him? I think he would like that."

"As good as done", agreed Lucius, "I guess, I'll see you tomorrow. Tell Harry that he doesn't need to be sorry for anything."

The two men parted and Sirius relayed the message to Harry, who smiled relievedly before once again hiding between the taller wizards to get through the reporters.

Hermione's parents were sitting on the bench on the other side, where the Weasleys had sat the day before, and Harry felt suddenly guilty when he saw Mrs. Granger's tear-clouded face, though he wasn't sure if it was more the loss of her daughter or the fact that her daughter was able to do something like this that grieved her so much. A groomed lawyer sat at the desk next to the chair in the middle, tons of papers weighing it down, and leafed through a thick book. Lucius once again smiled at him and with much conquest he smiled back before snuggling into Sirius, closing his eyes until they had to stand up.

"What do you plead?", Madam Bones asked after the reading of the bill of indictments, which was expanded to one more charge: physic cruelty.

Hermione had been led into the courtroom by two looming Dementors and Harry had had to once again fight the bad memories they brought back, glad when the two creatures left immediately. Her hair was even more frizzy, but she wore a fine simple cut dress that fell over her knees and a beige blazer over it. All in all she looked like mixture between a naive country girl and a over-ambitious career girl.

"We plead guilty", the lawyer stood with a small bow and pleasant smile fixed on his face, "And mitigating circumstances, your Honour!"

"Very well then. Miss Granger is refusing to give evidence, is that correct?", Madam Bones continued and the lawyer agreed, "You are aware that Miss Weasley already made a confession?"

"Yes, your Honour, my client still prefers to stay silent since this whole ordeal has been rather gruelling for my client, also considering the vicious attack on her."

Madam Bones scowled at the lawyer: "You were sent a protocol of Miss Weasley's testimony?"

"Yes, your Honour", the lawyer bowed again, "But we noticed that Mr. Potter didn't say very much and we would like to hear his point of the story."

"Objection, your Honour", Nott jumped up, "Mr. Dendie claims that this process is gruelling for his client, but I think we all agree that Mr. Potter has more right than Miss Granger to that claim."

"I merely wanted to suggest that since Mr. Potter agreed to act as a witness it would be best if we started with him", the lawyer chuckled a little.

"Please, refrain from such inappropriate behaviour", reprimanded the judge to Madam Bones' right, "This is no laughing matter."

While this small argument Mr. Nott had walked over to them: "Mr. Potter, are you sure of your decision to make a testimony? Dendie will not let you down easily", Harry nodded wordlessly, too frightened by the unfamiliar presence to speak, "You can go into the witness stand."

Harry waited till Nott had sat back down before carefully disentangling himself from Sirius embrace and Tom's hand. He took a deep breath and then slipped out from the railed bench and then walked over to the small box with utter calm and unbroken pride radiating from every pore. Of course he didn't feel like this on the inside, but he had years to perfect this farce. He stared straight ahead as he told what had happened that Halloween up to the point when he blacked out and the attorney just thanked him, not asking any questions.

"Mr. Potter, how are you?", Dendie asked pleasantly and Harry involuntarily shied back when he planted himself in front of the box.

"I don't see why I should answer that question, Mr. Dendie", answered Harry, "How would you feel?"

"I would be sad that my best-friend was condemned for something like this", Dendie returned, "Aren't you sad?"

"As far as I'm concerned that friendship ended when she started to insult me for something I hadn't done and had no control over. And I think on her part that friendship never existed", retorted Harry.

"Is it correct that you signed a contract that stated that you have to have sexual intercourse with Mr. You-Know-Who once a week? Isn't that like rape as well?"

"So, in your opinion, if someone is raped repeatedly he is supposed to like it, or what?", Harry said sharply, "Yes, I signed that contract, but Tom never raped me, the way I see it."

"Is it correct that you kissed Mr. Weasley, even though you knew that Miss Granger had a crush on the first?", the lawyer asked, lurking.

"I knew that Hermione had a crush on Ron", said Harry deliberately, "Which is the reason I never kissed Ron. He kissed me. He pushed me against a wall in the alley behind Florean Fortescue's. You can ask him if you don't believe me. She and Ron got together soon after- I really don't see how this connects to the rape. I am married, I never gave Ron or anyone else a sign that I was interested in them in that way."

"You stupid liar", shouted Hermione straining against the chains, "You drove everyone insane with your supposed innocence. Just one bat with your eyelashes and you had everyone at your feet. And now you did this to me..."

"If I could say something, your Honour", interjected Tom and stood up, "Harry never gave me a reason to doubt his faithfulness", he carefully approached the small boy and held out his hand, "And he would never do something to purposefully hurt another person. What Granger did is not excusable."

"And what you did is, Mr. You-Know-Who?", the lawyer mocked.

"No, it isn't, but I'm not standing trial here", he stated and squeezed Harry's hand leading him away, "I gained amnesty. I'm sure that if Granger was a Dark Lord, too, you could arrange something with this court, but as it is... Have fun in Azkaban."

"I want to go, Tom", whispered Harry near tears, "Bring me home."

Tom nodded and their whole party flooed home. Later Lucius sent an owl: Hermione had been sentenced to a life long stay in Azkaban in the high security tract and was denied any medical aid. Harry locked himself in his rooms as soon as they got home, trying to get his emotions under control.

"Uncle Severus", Harry stopped the Potion's Master in the hallway and the man turned, surprised- Harry hadn't really talked to any of them, "Can I have a Calming Draught?"

"Of course, I thought you might need one", he reached into his pocket, hauling out a plastic bottle, "I watered it down. You can drink the whole bottle if you feel the need to, but it will not knock you out, only sedate you a little."

"Thank you, Severus", Harry smiled a bit unsurely, "Also for Snuffles and I'm sorry that I'm like this."

"It's fine, Harry", Severus returned the smile, "Just make sure that you'll be okay soon. We should go now", he made to walk down the stairs in front of Harry, but the small boy hesitantly grabbed his hand: "Let's go."

Harry's first impression of the members of the Wizengamot was that they were all incredibly old. The eight wizards and five witches all wore long black ceremonial robes with a small emblem on their chest. The only two he knew with name were Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden because they had once retired from their position in protest to Dumbledore's suspension.

"The Wizengamot has come together today for the grave matter of the punishement of the former Chief Warlock Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore", Tiberius Ogden, who had been appointed as the temporary Chief Warlock, greeted them, "The accused is charged with accessory to rape, cruelty, child abuse and defamation all against his ward Harry James Potter."

"Mr. Dumbledore has decided to defend himself", the wizard to Ogden's right continued, "What do you plead, Mr. Dumbledore?"

"Please call me Albus, Ramon", Dumbledore spoke cheerfully, "And I plead not guilty, thank you."

A murmur went through the courtroom.

"Silence", admonished Ogden, "I think the facts of the case have been sufficiently illuminated. What do you have to say in your defence?"

"I don't deny the facts, yes, I did what I'm charged off", answered the former Headmaster with twinkling eyes, "However, I did so to bring Mr. Potter back to the light."

"Could you elaborate, Mr. Dumbledore", Ogden scowled, "I fail to see how child abuse could possibly help in such a case."

"As you can undoubtedly see, Mr. Potter, is very in favour of the Dark side, right now", all eyes swivelled around to land on the delicate boy, nestled in between the Dark Lord and Sirius, "I feared and still fear that this influence could not only lead him away from the Light, but form him into a new Dark Lord. And, honestly, no-one wants that, right?"

"Do you have any prove of that assumption other that Mr. Potter made friends with his husband?", asked a witch with grey fluffy hair.

"He pulled back from his friends and associated with people like the Malfoys. His reactions to friendly concern became violent and I have the suspicion that Voldemort is controlling him. There was an incident, following which I informed the Ministry of the abuse I suspected. I went to Mr. Potter's room to inquire about his health since he had acted strangely the week before and found him back to normal and very eager to get away from his husband. And who can blame him?"

"Your Honour", Tom stood up slowly, "This 'incident' indeed happened and, as you were undoubtedly informed of, I didn't abuse my husband and I think it's clear by now that Harry doesn't want to be away from me. During that conversation I was in the next room and I could hear every word- you can safely assume that if Harry had really wanted to get rid of me, he would have found a better way to relay that information. Harry was angry with me and he wanted Dumbledore to leave him alone. You married him off to me, what did you expect? That he kills me in my sleep?"

"I expected him to fulfil the prophesy", Dumbledore gave back.

"And what does this prophesy entail, Mr. Dumbledore?", inquired Griselda Marchbanks, "You reasoned every decision of yours with this prophesy. That you alone know. I begin to doubt that it ever existed."

"I expected something like that and therefore will provide you with the memory of when I witnessed the prediction", Hagrid, whom Harry had strangely enough missed, stepped forward and extracted Dumbledore's Pensieve and put it on the table in front of Ogden, who tipped it with his wand.

Once again the pearly figure of Professor Trelawney rose from the bowl and spoke in a raspy voice the words that had haunted Harry since the end of his fifth year. At the part of killing each other Tom's hand twitched, before pulling away slightly from his and Harry sobbed softly.

"Mr. Potter, you were aware of this prophesy?", Madam Marchbanks asked and Harry nodded weakly, "And are you planning to fulfil the prophesy?"

"Your Honour", Sirius suddenly jumped up, despite Harry's sobs, "The prophesy has already been fulfilled", he turned back to Tom and Harry, who looked tearfully at him, "_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches..._Just because Harry has the power to kill you doesn't mean he will do so, Riddle... _born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... _You did mark him, first with his scar and now also through your marriage... _and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... _Think Tom, didn't you hear that sentence before? Didn't someone die indirectly at your hand?"

/The child/, Tom hissed and took Harry in his arms, totally forgetting Harry's current state of mind.

Harry's body convulsed and he started to sob even harder as he felt the strong arms surrounding him: "No!"

"Let him go, idiot", Sirius pushed the Dark Lord back, "Don't you see, you're upsetting him?"

Harry slid under the bench, curling up under it. The others backed away quickly, but still shielded him from prying eyes.

"What is the matter?", a hunchbacked wizard at the end of the table wheezed, leaning back as Tom rounded in on him: "This is what happens when someone is raped repeatedly by the ones he calls friends or even family. Here you can see what your good, benevolent hero did to an innocent child."

"Mr. Riddle", Ogden spoke up, "Could you maybe explain to us what Mr. Snape was implying?"

"After Harry has calmed down."

"Don't worry, Riddle", Sirius stated, who had managed to take Harry in his arms, still sitting on the floor, "I have him. And for your information, I'm not Snape- the thought alone makes me sick."

"Beg your pardon?"

"You haven't by any chance noticed that there are two people looking like me?", Snape snapped, "Dumbledore's little plot had as a result that Harry is deadly afraid of the sight of his godfather, which is why I gave him Polyjuice Potion."

"Oh, you know- an old man's eyes", Ogden said with a self-deprecating little smile, "Could the Wizengamot have an answer now?"

"This prophesy is not only about Harry and me", Tom started, trying to find the right words, "Harry was pregnant."

The assembled witches and wizard gasped and the news had managed to shock even Dumbledore: "Why did you give him the potion?", a doddery woman with crinkled eyes asked; she looked like the stereotype of a grand-grand-mother and had a motherly air surrounding her old form, "The potion is illegal to administer to underage wizards."

"I never cared much about the law, you should know that, but in this case I didn't administer the potion. Harry was a bearer."

Once again the room gasped collectively and Ogden said in a questioning tone of voice: "But there hasn't been a natural Male Pregnancy since two hundred and forty-seven years... this isn't possible."

"We're talking about Harry Potter here", Tom smirked a little and pulled out one of Harry's medical reports, which Madam Pomfrey had sent to him because she had thought he might need that, "These are the documents of Harry's treatment after he had been attacked."

The wizened judges all quite undignified scrambled to get a look at the papers and everyone who had found the corresponding line sank back into their chair with a stunned expression.

"As you can see his condition was quite grave and to make a long story short, I had to choose one of them, Harry or the baby. I chose Harry. One of them had to die through my hand or at least through my decision because neither could have lived while the other survived. So you see the prophesy is fulfilled."

"That still doesn't change the fact that Harry is on the best way of becoming a Dark Lord, all your Death Eaters have corrupted him", Dumbledore intervened and some of the Wizengamot wizards nodded, though the story of a killed child seemed to have convinced all the witches and the majority of the wizards- apparently they thought that killing a child was just too high a prize to assure someone's loyalty.

"I would like to say something", Lucius stood next to Tom, "I always was a Malfoy. Malfoys are always ruthless, they are cunning and they are always on the winning side. I never saw myself as evil, I did what I did to assure the well-being of myself, my family and the Malfoy line. If that meant being a Death Eater, so be it. But since Harry spent some time in my manor this view point changed. I am not a bad person, no, but I'm not good, either. Harry is. Harry helps others for reasons I can't even begin to understand, he does things that don't make any sense to me, but somehow make everything better. My son is dating Charlie Weasley because Harry thought they would match- I have never seen my son so happy before. The first thing my wife will ask when I'm home again will be how Harry is doing and I'm sure there will be at least five owls asking the exact same thing. Harry didn't change, your Honour, he changed us. I always was first a Malfoy and then a Death Eater. Now I'm first Harry's friend. I would chose Harry over the Dark Lord anytime and I know most of the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord himself would do the same. And that is not because he's more powerful than the Dark Lord."

"The accused has the last word", Ogden stated after a long silence, turning his eyes back to the old man, who had slumped in his chair.

"Can't you see they're manipulating you?", he mustered up his remaining strength, "This whole show with breaking down and losing a baby and about being changed. They're Slytherins. They wanted this contract and it destroyed everything."

"I was in Slytherin as well", Ogden sneered and four other members nodded in agreement, "And you talked the Ministry into accepting this contract and as I see it Mr. Riddle and his followers have changed for the better, while you did everything to break this agreement and young Mr. Potter, who, in my opinion, is not at all faking. Maybe I'm fooled, yes, but I'd rather be fooled and live in peace and than be manipulated and fight a war of a power-hungry senile man. And now, Albus, your last word!"

"You will perish without me", Dumbledore, spat revealing the corrupt man he really was, "This world is held together by me. If I hadn't saved your arses so many times you would have gone under. You're fools and I enjoyed what I did, I watched the whole thing, and I knew exactly how Potter was treated at home, I joined in a couple of times, such a good little whore, aren't you, Harry? Try to fix your broken toy, Tom, if you think you can stand all the dirt and cum staining him. You're both freaks, disgusting little freaks and..."

Tom waved his wand at the maniac man, silencing him: "I suggest you pass the sentence before I decide to take it out of your hands."

Ogden nodded: "I propose the maximum punishment: the Dementor's kiss, the revoking of all his titles, the assignment of his vaults and worldly possessions to charity organisations and the snapping of his wand. Are there any other suggestions?", no-one spoke up, "Who agrees?", everyone lifted his or her hand and Ogden tapped his wand on the desk with a loud snap that echoed around the room and filled in the papers.

After each of the members of the Wizengamot had signed the sentence, Ogden stood up a long thin wand in his hand and for everyone to see snapped it in two halves before putting it back down and handing the sentence over to his secretary.

"The sentences may be passed immediately", Ogden stated, giving the Dementors a sign with his hand, but before the vile creatures could feast on Dumbledore's soul, a loud rustling could be heard that seemed to come from every dark corner of the room and seconds later the assembled wizards were surrounded by hundreds of vampires.

"Not so fast, human", Sunny stepped out of the mass of pale-skinned vampires accompanied by five other clan chiefs, "It is not only your law that applies here. He hurt a child of our clan. You can have him kissed once we are through with him."

He smirked viciously and the other vampires barred their fangs.

"Which child are you talking about?", one of the witches spoke up bravely.

"Harry Potter", Sunny rolled his eyes at her, "He is a child of our clan and we don't take kindly to see our children being abused and raped."

He made an imperative hand gesture and four of his vampires moved to get Dumbledore.

"Harry Potter is no vampire", the wizard Dumbledore had called Ramon earlier objected.

"You obviously enough don't know anything about vampires", the vampire to Sunny's right whispered, "Children of our clan are those, who are so by birth, those, who gave us their blood and those, who we care about. Harry Potter is a child of the clan."

"Our court will pass its own sentence and will execute it", the vampire on Sunny's other side declared and the four vampires who held Dumbledore vanished into thin air with the better part of the non-humans, "After that you can have him back- or what is left of him."

The last few vampires plopped away and only Sunny stayed a moment longer to pull Rabastan aside: "Take good care of Harry", he whispered urgently, "And tell him that if he needs me or wants me to do something he just has to ask. Keep me informed, okay?", he gently smiled at his brown-haired mate before kissing him passionately and also following his clan.

"Well, that was kind of unexpected", Ogden seemed strangely happy and satisfied, though and most of the other members of the Wizengamot seemed to think that Dumbledore deserved whatever they had in store for him.

There wasn't much known about vampire traditions and their legal system, but it was generally believed that they took Talion's law **(1)** rather literally. No-one expected to see Dumbledore for the next few months and most were even slightly surprised when Dumbledore was returned to them four months later in a rather small package, which he had to share with several rats. But there wasn't much of him left anyway and though several Aurors and Ministry officials expressed the wish to practise some spells on him, most everyone seemed to agree that Dumbledore wasn't worth the bother and on top of that stank too awfully to be around. There were no meaningful last words, either, since the Dumbledore-package was short of one tongue and several other body parts. But that was still in the future and Dumbledore had yet to pay for his crimes...

"Mr. Riddle, I hope sincerely that you have been honest with us today and under those circumstances I apologise on behalf of the whole Wizengamot for the inconvenience we have caused you and your husband", he held out his hand, "I have to admit that I don't know Mr. Potter personally, but no-one deserved what he had to go through and I hope he will recover."

Tom took the hand, shaking, just as a reporter slipped through the Security Spells and Aurors and snapped a photo before quickly pulling back: "Thank you, Mr. Ogden, I hope so, too. And although I know, this doesn't mean much to you, I was more sincere today and in the last weeks and months than ever before."

"It actually means something, Mr. Riddle", the old man smiled, "You probably don't remember, but I bethink you as a young man and I never knew you to be a liar."

"Thank you, Mr. Ogden, though I'm afraid all I have is a very dim memory", the Dark Lord smiled back, "If you don't mind I would now like to take Harry back home."

The Chief Warlock nodded and followed his colleagues out of the room. Harry's friends all sat or stood around the still slightly hysterical boy, who sat in Sirius' lap, who on his part sat on the floor, quite narrowed down by the railing on one side and the bench on the other side.

"I think it would be best if you got rid of all the reporters and left us alone", Sirius stated, "That was quite a stupid thing to do, Riddle."

"I hadn't noticed", Tom returned sarcastically, but still in a soft voice, "Are you sure you can handle him alone?"

"Well, there isn't anyone else, Riddle, since you just had to upset him so much that he's still crying after drinking all of his Calming Draught", Sirius retorted.

"I'll stay", Severus offered, "He took my hand this morning and he talked to me and you can't possibly get him out of here without anyone's help."

Sirius agreed reluctantly and the others left, closing the door behind them and starting to scare away all the reporters, making sure they couldn't return too soon before flooing to Marauder's Reserve.

"Hey, Snape?"

"What?"

"I think, Harry has fallen asleep", Sirius stated after half an hour, "Think, they already got rid of the reporters?"

"I'll check", Snape stretched his long legs and walked over to the door, peering through a small gap, "I think they are gone."

"Well, could you help me up?"

Snape's eyes spoke volumes as he pulled his doppelganger to his feet.

"Thanks."

"Don't go sappy on me again."

"I'm trying to be civil- something I'm sure you never heard of", Sirius retorted.

"I heard of it, I tried it and then decided against it", the Potion's Master sneered, "And you certainly never earned a medal for your civility, either."

"Okay, Snape, listen", Sirius kicked against his leg to stop him since both his hands were occupied with holding Harry, which in hindsight was perhaps not the best way to start this particular conversation, "I know, I was a brat at school, I know, I was actually worse than that. I know, I hated you for no reason at all and that I acted unfair and prejudiced against you. I won't try to explain this to you and I'm not trying to excuse it. But I really am grateful for what you did and I'm grateful that you care about Harry. I changed, Snape, I grew up, I'm no longer the big-headed boy you remember from school and I am sorry for what I did, if only because Harry was so disappointed as he found out about what we did to you."

"What if I want an explanation?", Severus demanded.

Sirius took a deep breath: "I hated my family and I hated Slytherins because that is what they wanted me to be. I hated you because you were like me in a way. I saw you as the incarnation of what I would have been like if I had lived up to my family's expectations. I hated you because sometimes I wished to be you just to be accepted by my family and then I hated myself because I was so weak as to wish for something like that. Other times I hated you because if it weren't for people like you, my family wouldn't hate me, if there wasn't someone else they wanted me to be, then I could just be myself. You were an outlet every time I hated myself and my family."

"That is actually a pretty decent explanation. I guess it makes sense for people, whose dumb little brain works like a Gryffindor's", Severus smirked, glad he could accept the apology and still jibe at the Animagus, "I accept your apology, but we'll never be friends and if you think, I should apologise as well, just out of the goodness of my heart..."

"I get it, Snape", Sirius laughed, "But you know, once Harry has recovered he will make us get along until we declare that we are the best of friends..."

"Of course, I will", Harry mumbled sleepily, "Can we go home now?"

"Sure thing, honey", agreed Sirius, stepping into the elevator and mouthed "I told you so" to Snape, who just rolled his eyes.

"I see you're feeling better, imp", the Potion's Master remarked and pressed the right button.

"I think so."

"What do you mean?", the Animagus asked concerned, "That doesn't sound very convincing.

"It's just", Harry pulled back to be able to look in his face, "Why did Tom pull back? Doesn't he know that I would never kill him?"

"Harry, he was in shock. Today he heard the whole prophesy for the first time", Severus reassured him, "And despite your thinking that ignoring it will solve the problem, prophesies have the unpleasant habit to become true. I guess, he just didn't want to lose you. If he had to fulfil the prediction, Harry, he would have killed himself, I can assure you of that. However, that would mean he would have to leave you alone and probably hurt you."

"Really?", Harry looked at him hopefully and Severus nodded decidedly, "Thank you", he half twisted around and hugged the Potion's Master, "You know it's kind of weird to suddenly have two Severus Snapes around."

"But you must admit that I look really good- even for Snape", Sirius remarked and Harry laughed, hitting him over the head, "Let's get you home, kiddo."

He stepped into the fireplace with Harry still in his arms, pressing the slight boy close to his body, as Severus threw some Floo Powder in the fire, stating their location. With the ease of someone who had used this way of travelling practically all his life he kept the two of them exactly in the middle as unknown fireplaces rushed by them and then swung into his living room, overbalancing a little, but catching himself before he could land face down on the floor and on Harry.

"How do you do that?", Harry asked frustrated as Severus, too, stepped out of the fireplace, dusting of his robes, "That is so unfair."

"Some are just gifted like that", mocked the Potion's Master, "And now off to bed with you."

"Can I ask something?"

"Of course, Harry", Sirius carefully sat them down on the sofa, waiting for Harry to continue.

"I thought about the other trials", Harry murmured, "What Hermione and Ginny said. What did they mean? What happened to them?"

"They were attacked while they were in Azkaban", Severus explained in a neutral voice, "Dumbledore as well. Someone castrated them."

"Oh", Harry said softly, "Who was it?"

"They don't know, but I guess it was a friend of yours", Sirius answered, "And that means they have a lot of suspects."

Harry looked at him inquiringly for a moment, but as Sirius just calmly returned his gaze he nodded in understanding: "I shouldn't feel that way, but I'm glad they'll never be able to have children."

"They deserved it, Harry", Severus stated gently, "And you didn't, it's as easy as that."

"Tom said I **was** a bearer", Harry whispered after a while, "Am I not anymore?"

Sirius took a deep breath, kissing Harry's hair softly, before he answered: "You are still a bearer, but it never happened that bearers got pregnant again after a miscarriage. That's why he said 'was'. You can still conceive with the help of potions, but it is highly unlikely that you will get pregnant the natural way."

"Don't worry too much about it now, okay?", Severus added as Harry kept silent, "If you ever want to have child of your own, we will find a way. I promise."

"Thank you", Harry smiled briefly before burying his head in Sirius' chest once more.

Severus got up, opened the door for them and then followed them to Harry's room, waiting outside as Sirius put his godson to bed.

"Is there something you need?", Sirius carefully closed the door behind him.

"Just wanted to give you this", he handed Sirius a potion's bottle, "It's Wolfboy's potion."

"Thanks. Goodnight, Snape."

The Potion's Master only spun around and disappeared in the room he shared with the Dark Lord and Sirius rolled his eyes, thinking that this new development was almost as amusing as their mutual hatred. It seemed it was true after all: Be nice to your enemies, nothing irks them more!

**

* * *

**

**(1) Talion's law is this law from the Bible with an eye for an eye and so on... I learned in my religion class #is very proud of herself#**

**

* * *

**

**sobs No-one wants to read my original version- oh, okay, I admit it, there are some people, who want to read the dramatic one, but the clear majority thinks Tom should realise his mistake sooner.**

**Well, anyway, it's still time... Tell me which version I should post...**

**Until Thursday...**


	54. Fixing Harry less dramatic version

**Disclaimer: All the wonderful characters belong to the fabulous J.K. Rowling.**

**Author's Note: Okay, the less dramatic one it is. I'll post the original version later, don't worry. Oh, I have this wonderful experience to share: Yesterday, the first chapter of my story was published in Czech. I don't understand a word of Czech ( no, I just remembered I would probably understand it if someone said hello), but if you do, why don't you go to www . rivill . mujiblog . info and read it? Anyway, it's a great feeling to see your story translated and I want to thank rivill for it...**

**Oh, and I thank Leianora for correcting my mistakes for me. #big hug#**

**

* * *

**

**54. FIXING HARRY (LESS DRAMATIV VERSION)**

"What's wrong?" asked Harry, leaning against the door frame of the kitchen, looking at Sirius who seemed to be troubled by something.

Everyone swivelled around at his quiet question, and Harry winced a little at all the sudden movement and the resulting noise.

"Merlin, you startled me," Sirius greeted, "Do you want to sit down?"

"Maybe, but right now I'd much rather have an answer to my question."

"The Daily Prophet owled me; they want an article about the trials," explained Sirius, waving the letter.

"Well, what is your problem?" Harry slowly moved towards them and stiffly sank into the chair at the head of the table. "Do it."

"Are you sure, Harry?" Sirius asked uncertainly. "I could understand if you didn't want me to."

"Of course I'm sure," Harry smiled at him. "It's much better to have one correct article than a lot of speculations and rumours... Can I have your coffee, Remus?"

"You seem to be in a good mood today," the werewolf commented. He looked a bit worse for wear since the full moon was in a few days.

"It's going to rain today," Harry stated as if that explained everything, "And I got a flock of owls."

"And what have you planned for today?", Tom dared to ask.

"Don't know, any suggestions?"

"Well, Madam Pomfrey and Mrs. Turner gave us a list with things we could do to help you", the red-eyed man offered, "That is if you want us to help you."

"Of course I want you to help me," he looked at them with pleading eyes, "I don't want to fear you anymore. I'm just not sure I can do this yet."

"How about you try, Harry, you have nothing to lose and if you feel that you're not ready yet, we'll stop immediately," Rudolphus suggested and Harry nodded hesitantly.

"Okay, Harry, your first task," Sirius pushed a plate of food in front of the thin boy, "A good day starts with a good breakfast. Eat."

"Yes, Mum."

"I'll have you know that I'm very manly," Sirius pouted and Harry chuckled lightly before starting his breakfast.

After breakfast they all went over to the living room, with its fluffy grey-blue carpet, the comfy and mismatched armchairs and the high-domed ceiling. Rudolphus ordered them to take a seat: "Do you want to talk about it, Harry?"

"No, not really," Harry chewed his bottom-lip nervously, "I already talked about it twice and you all know what happened."

"All right," Rudolphus nodded in understanding, "Would you be more comfortable to work just with... Snuffles right now or do you want to work with all of us?"

"With all of you," Harry replied.

"Then we should start with you touching us, Harry," Rudolphus also took a seat, "This training won't work if you can't touch us."

The small Gryffindor seemed more than doubtful at this proposal.

"Why don't you start with telling us why you are afraid to touch us?"

Harry stayed silent, kneading his hands and shifting awkwardly in his armchair.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, sweetie," Tom said after a while. "You don't have to feel obligated to do anything. We're just trying to understand."

"I don't like it," Harry whispered. "They touched me everywhere and you're all so tall and you tower over me and it makes me feel helpless. I never want to feel like that again, I couldn't move and it hurt. And I'm afraid. I know that you're not like them, I know that, but you still scare me. And I fear that when I touch you it will start again and that you will touch me as well and hurt me."

"That's okay," Severus assured him gently. "Can you tell us why you can hug Snuffles and hold Tom's hand?"

"They smell good", Harry blushed, "They don't smell like them. They smell familiar."

"Maybe it would help if you sniffed us?" Rabastan suggested, "So that you can get used to us?"

After a bit of convincing Harry cautiously approached them and deeply breathed in their scent, while their hands were crossed behind their backs. Perhaps it was that his nose was more sensitive thanks to his Animagus-form, but after he had found out that Severus smelled very strongly of herbs and remembered that this scent had always made him feel safe, after he had decided that Rudolphus smelled a bit like summer rain and bitter chocolate, after he had discovered that Rabastan indeed smelled like black tea and that Remus had a scent of conifer and wildness surrounding him, he hugged them tightly, thanking them for their support, before he also hugged Sirius and finally snuggled in between him and Tom, who smelled like black coffee and something that was just purely Tom.

"I would say that this was enough progress for one day," declared Rudolphus and everyone agreed.

They spent the rest of the day lazing around (at least, Harry would have said so, but of course, the Slytherins were far above such humble activities). Sirius started to write the article, Harry replied to his letters, Severus was thinking about a new potion to modify one's memory without any side effects while Rudolphus was trying to get his attention without disturbing him. Rabastan read a book about vampires and their mates, Remus was sorting through old photographs, labelling them and putting them in different boxes or albums. And Tom, Tom was thinking about Harry while gently carding his fingers through the boy's hair. It was almost like it had been before, only now he valued Harry's presence even more.

He also thought about the prophesy and though he was still sad about the loss of their child, he knew that neither of them had been ready for that yet and he was glad that nothing was standing between them anymore.

He was also glad about Dumbledore's punishment, congratulating himself for a job well done. Ogden had even sent him a letter and today's Daily Prophet with the photo of the two of them shaking hands, stating that should the Weasley girl or Granger ever try to escape or contact them the Dementors had orders to kiss them immediately and that, on a lighter note, he would like to discuss his status as a Dark Lord as soon as Harry had recovered to converse about changes he would like to be made. He remembered that Tom's ideals had always been quite fascinating.

But mostly Tom thought about his Harry. But mostly he thought about his Harry and only for the ten minutes after Harry had once again swatted his arm for staring at him he made an effort to led his thoughts into another direction.

Around noon it started to rain and Harry exclaimed that he would go for a walk- alone. They were all quite relieved when the green-eyed boy returned safely three hours later. Sirius resolutely ordered him to take a hot bath and to change into dry clothes, while Remus pushed a cup of hot tea in his small hands.

When he came back down in dry and comfy clothes he hesitated a moment, but then sat next to Remus and Rabastan and read over Rabastan's shoulder or helped the werewolf to decide where to place which photo, whenever he thought the book was too boring. He felt good and what was even more important he felt safe. He recognised them again, they were no longer looming shadows out to get him, no longer lurking figures in dark hallways, no longer Ginny or Hermione or Uncle Vernon. They were his friends and they cared about him as much as he cared about them. They were his saviours.

With this thought in mind he started his therapy. During the first few days they only expected him to get used to their presence, to their voices and to small touches. He had a hard time fully accepting Sirius and especially Tom, since he indeed knew who they were and it was hard not to connect them with that day, as he had thought about them more than about anyone else in those hours. But after two weeks and one day he could hug all of them and they could also hug him back or touch him as long as they didn't startle him or didn't come near his ass and his hips and that whole region.

When he had got this far, Rudolphus suggested that he do some exercises to built up his trust. The first one was for Harry to let himself fall backwards and to let them catch him. As it turned out Harry had no problem with the falling part, but as soon as the person behind him caught him and inevitably touched him, he panicked and curled up or scrambled away. In Rudolphus' opinion that was a sign that he did trust them in his head, but deep inside, he was still scared by touch in general- not that this helped matters.

But eventually after long nerve-wracking hours and days, Harry let himself fall into Tom's arms, smiling cheekily at the surprised looks he received.

"How did you do that?" Tom asked perplexed as he gently helped him back to his feet.

Harry pulled his hands out of his pockets revealing his wand in his right hand and an electronic blue surrounding the other. "I thought it would make it easier and it did."

"This is great, Harry, but you know that you can not always walk around with your wand at the ready, don't you?" Tom commented softly.

"I know, Tom, and I'm working on it, but right now this is the only way it will work."

Tom nodded understandingly and Harry really managed not to panic as the others caught him, however it took them the rest of the afternoon and the following day to make Harry accomplish it without this security net. Even then his first reaction was to pull his wand and put a shield up around him. But everyone was satisfied with this and Tom stated that he'd rather be hexed into the next century than to let something like this happen again to Harry.

That was not the only exercise Rudolphus had in store. The next task was for Harry to close his eyes and let the others lead him around the house, which worked pretty well until it was time for Harry to take the hand of someone else with his eyes still closed. They finally found out that the key to this problem was once again their smell. As soon as Harry knew who was leading him he was fine. He still didn't like the sound of doors closing or opening and loud sudden noises scared him, but otherwise he was doing fine.

The only thing that absolutely freaked Harry out was laying flat on the floor or even worse when someone was leaning over him and nothing could change that. In such a case he fell back into his old habit to curl up and whimper, not calming down as long as anyone was in the room and even when he was alone only after several hours. This caused everyone great anxiety, but Harry was not willing to talk about it. The only thing close to an explanation they got was that this was something that would never change and therefore they should stop bothering him about it. Harry knew it was probably rash of him, but somehow he knew that fixing this was something he wasn't yet ready for.

Another problem was Tom. Harry always felt obligated to sleep with him, although Tom assured him he would wait and would never demand something like that. Still, it made Harry nervous to know that he was breaking the contract and that only Tom's good will was protecting him. With more and more time passing he grew steadily more nervous and skittish around Tom, until one day, when he winced as Tom's hand brushed against his. And finally the red-eyed man had had enough and dragged Harry to his room, which did nothing to ease the small boy's fears.

"Sit," he ordered, and the delicate boy hastened to comply. "What do I have to do to make you believe me?"

"I don't know..."

"You know damn well, Harry," he ran his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath to calm down. "Look, I am trying to be understanding and supportive and I thought I was rather good at it. I don't expect you to have sex with me or even to kiss me. I want you to get better and if that means that I have to leave, okay, just tell me. But this--", he made an elaborate hand gesture, "I can't bear it. I scare you, you shy away from me, you look at me like you want to run away. I will not ever touch you again, if that's the reaction I get. Harry, I really, really like you and I want you to be happy and you obviously can't be while I'm around, so I'm going to leave."

"No," Harry whimpered. "You promised you would never leave me, Tom, you promised. Don't do this to me..."

"Harry..." Tom turned around slowly, trying to stand his ground.

"You promised," Harry whispered again, curling into a tight little ball. "I guess it was stupid of me to think you would want me after all this."

"No, Harry," Tom finally gave up, crouching down next to the shivering boy. "I want you. I want you too much. I won't leave, okay?"

He tried to take Harry in his arms, but he shied away, his whimpers growing louder. "You promised."

"I know, Harry, I'm sorry, I said I would leave", Tom murmured soothingly, "I was going to keep an eye on you, little one, I would never have left you all alone. You are my everything, precious."

"Then why did you say it?", Harry sobbed, "I know I'm dirty, but I can't change that. I thought you loved me."

"I do, Harry, I do love you and you are not dirty and we will help you realise this." Tom carefully wiped away Harry's tears. "It was stupid of me to say that. I'm sorry I always mess up when you need me the most. But you can't heal like this, Harry. And I want you to heal more than anything. I never want to see you this scared and sad ever again. And you are scared, Harry. You make progress with everyone here, but with me because you think I will demand that you have sex with me again. But I won't. Why can't you believe me? You come before everyone else, including myself. I want you, you should know that, but I don't want you only because of the sex. I love you, even though I'm not allowed to say it. I love your personality and your smile and your voice and your laugh. I love the way you light up a room when you enter it. I love it that you are so pure and innocent despite everything that happened to you. I love how you find solutions to unsolvable problems just because you want to help. I love your blush and the way you relax in your godfather's presence. I love to watch you two because he manages to make you feel safe and because you believe him when he says he loves you. I just wished you would believe me, too..."

"I'm trying", Harry sniffed, "I want to trust you."

"Then why can't you, Harry, is it something I do... or something I don't do?" Tom asked urgently. "Why don't you believe me when I say that I will never again force you to have sex with me?"

"He... My uncle", Harry closed his eyes briefly, "He used to apologise. In the very beginning, he said it would never happen again, that he was sorry and that he loved me. And he did it again and again and... I believed him."

"Shh, Harry, it's over now." Sirius had entered the room without the two Parselmouths noticing and now crouched down next to his godson. "Tom will not hurt you, honey, I won't allow it. You should have told me about your relatives, you shouldn't have tried to protect me," Sirius smiled reassuringly at Harry. "I'm the adult, Harry, let me take care of you and not the other way round."

"I'm sorry", Harry clutched at Sirius' robes, "I didn't want you to worry or blame yourself."

"I worry about you constantly," the grey-eyed man returned, "and with good reason. I've been a horrible godfather so far, but I promise, I will get better. And you will stop hiding such things from me, Harry. Don't you want to heal? It's all or nothing, Harry, I will respect your decision, but if you decide to keep everything bottled up, you will never be able to heal. I know you are strong enough to do this if you only want to. You don't have to fear us. We are here to help you and none of us thinks that it was in any way your fault what happened."

"I don't want to hurt you," Harry whispered, still clinging to his godfather.

"This hurts, Harry", Tom stated gently, "Because we can all see that you still fear us, but don't want to admit it. You can't brush it aside and pretend it never happened. Those silencing charms you use and all those panic attacks, don't you think we have noticed? I know you want to protect us, but we are hurting because you are hurting and don't allow us to help you."

"Won't you please try at least?" Sirius pleaded, "For me?"

"Okay," Harry nodded timidly before closing his eyes, "I will try. I promise to heal, but don't leave me. I need you."

"I won't leave," Sirius said softly, sliding into the bed behind him, "You're my little Harry, how could I leave you?"

"Will you stay, Tom?" Harry pleaded.

"Of course I will." Tom brushed one of the inky black strands out of his face. "I'm sorry for saying that earlier, Harry. I once again proved how inept I am at human relations. I'm sorry I made you doubt yourself even more. I won't do something like this again, I won't. I think it will turn out much better if you tell me what you want me to do."

"It hurt so much to think that you would turn your back on me like everyone else," Harry sniffed, "I'm so afraid that you'll cancel the contract. It would be your right and I want to make you happy, but I can't..."

"Shh, why would I cancel the contract, kitten? Nothing good would come of it. I don't want to lose you," Tom whispered tenderly. "I promise I will not mess up again. Give me a chance."

"It would be enough if you only kept your old promises. You get one last chance, Tom. One. Last. Chance. Don't mess up again."

"Thank you, Harry. No more broken promises."

"Well, it was about damn time you used that big head of yours," Sirius said gruffly from behind Harry, pulling the fragile boy close. "If you do that again, I'll bait you with my own personal werewolf, understood?"

"It's perfectly clear," Tom nodded. "Can I do anything for you, kitten?"

"Stay with me," Harry pleaded, receiving a nod in return as he snuggled closer to Sirius.

"I need the Polyjuice Potion," Sirius stated, but Harry interrupted him. "It's okay, just don't move."

"Are you sure, Harry? I don't mind..." Sirius assured him. Harry only took his hands in his own smaller ones and closed his eyes.

Gradually he could feel the body behind him change. The shoulders broadened, the body shortened slightly, while the hands in his hands became more callused and larger. But it was still his Snuffles, it was still the person who would always love him and he was still surrounded by the same familiar smell of sea and wet dog.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Tom inquired concernedly, when Harry still hadn't reacted after several minutes.

"Yes," Harry smiled slightly and slowly opened his eyes, playing with Sirius' tanned hands. "I'm really tired."

"Then you should sleep." the red-eyed man declared, unfolding his long legs and pulled his desk chair over to the bed, sitting down in it and once again taking Harry's hand in his.

"Sleep, kitten", he murmured softly, "I'll watch out for you. No-one will hurt you."

"Will you watch out for Snuffles, too?" Harry pleaded.

"Of course, Harry, you'll both be safe," he assured him, smiling tenderly at him, "Anything else I can do for you?"

"Where's Lami?" Harry asked. "I couldn't find him."

"I think he's still in Hogwarts," the red-eyed man admitted, "I'll send Dobby to fetch him for you, okay?"

"Master Tom has called?" Dobby somehow managed to appear with a very soft pop so as not to startle Harry and also kept his distance, though he smiled broadly at the black-haired boy.

"Would you please fetch Harry's teddy bear from Hogwarts?" Tom asked.

Dobby immediately popped away, returning only a few moments later, handing the plushie to the Dark Lord.

"Dobby hopes the Master Harry will feel better soon," he smiled once again, his grin broadening even more as Harry cautiously smiled back, before he disappeared once again.

Tom carefully pushed the teddy bear in Harry's arms, tucking the blankets around the two lithe Gryffindors and kissed Harry's forehead before sitting back down in his chair.

"Can you... you know... can you take me in your arms, please?" Harry whispered nervously and Tom smiled slightly, because this was so characteristic of the Harry he loved. "If you're sure."

"Don't get any wrong ideas, Riddle," Sirius warned as they were all snuggled under the covers, Harry's back to Sirius' chest and his head resting against Tom's chest.

Harry sniggered, before wishing them a good night.

"Good night, kiddo."

"Good night, little one."

From the doorway Remus smiled happily, Severus smirked triumphantly and Rabastan and Rudolphus high-fived, before they all retired to their own rooms or in Severus' case to Rudolphus' and Rabastan's room, slipping into bed with his broad-shouldered lover.

"I never thought I would see the Dark Lord snuggled into bed with not only Harry, but also Black," he stated dryly. "It seems like he finally got the right idea."

"Do you think Harry will be alright?" Rudolphus whispered back, gently stroking Severus' back.

"Aren't you the psychologist?" the Potion's Master returned sarcastically. "I think he will be if Tom manages to make him believe that he is loved the way he is... And if he manages to keep his promises."

"Then maybe we should make sure he does", Rudolphus whispered directly in the black-haired wizard's ear, "And I will also make sure you keep your promises... You remember that one involving your mouth, whipped cream and my body?"

"How can you think of sex now?" Severus growled incredulously, "Your brother is sleeping only two metres away!"

"More like he's trying to sleep," Rabastan snapped with annoyance. "Ever heard of Silencing Charms? I didn't need to know about this."

"I told you!" Severus was grateful that he was facing away from his lover and that it was so dark or Rudolphus would have discovered the blush adorning his face. "Now, go to sleep or you won't get any until Christmas."

Rudolphus knew all too well exactly how long Severus could hold out from previous experience and so he sighed and closed his eyes, soon after feeling Severus' hands land on the small of his back, before they slowly caressed his buttocks, compensating him for the lack of sexual activity.

"Sev?" Rudolphus asked after a while and the thin man grumbled to make it clear that he was listening, "Tell me that we can fix Harry."

"Of course we can," Severus declared with conviction, "We have to."

* * *

**Remember, if you don't like this version you have yourself to blame...**


	55. Fixing Harry dramatic version

**Disclaimer: Not mine! What a surprise...**

**Author's Note: Hey there, this is the other version, so a huge part of this chapter is the same... And if you were fully satisfied with the old version you probably shouldn't read it... Anyway, I know this is not an actual chapter, but it's Christmas soon so you will forgive me #looks hopefully#. That's also the reason why I won't update tomorrow since in Germany we celebrate Christmas on the 24th. Well, I wish you all a very merry Christmas...

* * *

**

**54. FIXING HARRY (DRAMATIC VERSION)**

"What's wrong?" asked Harry, leaning against the door frame of the kitchen, looking at Sirius who seemed to be troubled by something.

Everyone swivelled around at his quiet question, and Harry winced a little at all the sudden movement and the resulting noise.

"Merlin, you startled me," Sirius greeted, "Do you want to sit down?"

"Maybe, but right now I'd much rather have an answer to my question."

"The Daily Prophet owled me; they want an article about the trials," explained Sirius, waving the letter.

"Well, what is your problem?" Harry slowly moved towards them and stiffly sank into the chair at the head of the table. "Do it."

"Are you sure, Harry?" Sirius asked uncertainly. "I could understand if you didn't want me to."

"Of course I'm sure," Harry smiled at him. "It's much better to have one correct article than a lot of speculations and rumours... Can I have your coffee, Remus?"

"You seem to be in a good mood today," the werewolf commented. He looked a bit worse for wear since the full moon was in a few days.

"It's going to rain today," Harry stated as if that explained everything, "And I got a flock of owls."

"And what have you planned for today?", Tom dared to ask.

"Don't know, any suggestions?"

"Well, Madam Pomfrey and Mrs. Turner gave us a list with things we could do to help you", the red-eyed man offered, "That is if you want us to help you."

"Of course I want you to help me," he looked at them with pleading eyes, "I don't want to fear you anymore. I'm just not sure I can do this yet."

"How about you try, Harry, you have nothing to lose and if you feel that you're not ready yet, we'll stop immediately," Rudolphus suggested and Harry nodded hesitantly.

"Okay, Harry, your first task," Sirius pushed a plate of food in front of the thin boy, "A good day starts with a good breakfast. Eat."

"Yes, Mum."

"I'll have you know that I'm very manly," Sirius pouted and Harry chuckled lightly before starting his breakfast.

After breakfast they all went over to the living room, with its fluffy grey-blue carpet, the comfy and mismatched armchairs and the high-domed ceiling. Rudolphus ordered them to take a seat: "Do you want to talk about it, Harry?"

"No, not really," Harry chewed his bottom-lip nervously, "I already talked about it twice and you all know what happened."

"All right," Rudolphus nodded in understanding, "Would you be more comfortable to work just with... Snuffles right now or do you want to work with all of us?"

"With all of you," Harry replied.

"Then we should start with you touching us, Harry," Rudolphus also took a seat, "This training won't work if you can't touch us."

The small Gryffindor seemed more than doubtful at this proposal.

"Why don't you start with telling us why you are afraid to touch us?"

Harry stayed silent, kneading his hands and shifting awkwardly in his armchair.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, sweetie," Tom said after a while. "You don't have to feel obligated to do anything. We're just trying to understand."

"I don't like it," Harry whispered. "They touched me everywhere and you're all so tall and you tower over me and it makes me feel helpless. I never want to feel like that again, I couldn't move and it hurt. And I'm afraid. I know that you're not like them, I know that, but you still scare me. And I fear that when I touch you it will start again and that you will touch me as well and hurt me."

"That's okay," Severus assured him gently. "Can you tell us why you can hug Snuffles and hold Tom's hand?"

"They smell good", Harry blushed, "They don't smell like them. They smell familiar."

"Maybe it would help if you sniffed us?" Rabastan suggested, "So that you can get used to us?"

After a bit of convincing Harry cautiously approached them and deeply breathed in their scent, while their hands were crossed behind their backs. Perhaps it was that his nose was more sensitive thanks to his Animagus-form, but after he had found out that Severus smelled very strongly of herbs and remembered that this scent had always made him feel safe, after he had decided that Rudolphus smelled a bit like summer rain and bitter chocolate, after he had discovered that Rabastan indeed smelled like black tea and that Remus had a scent of conifer and wildness surrounding him, he hugged them tightly, thanking them for their support, before he also hugged Sirius and finally snuggled in between him and Tom, who smelled like black coffee and something that was just purely Tom.

"I would say that this was enough progress for one day," declared Rudolphus and everyone agreed.

They spent the rest of the day lazing around (at least, Harry would have said so, but of course, the Slytherins were far above such humble activities). Sirius started to write the article, Harry replied to his letters, Severus was thinking about a new potion to modify one's memory without any side effects while Rudolphus was trying to get his attention without disturbing him. Rabastan read a book about vampires and their mates, Remus was sorting through old photographs, labelling them and putting them in different boxes or albums. And Tom, Tom was thinking about Harry while gently carding his fingers through the boy's hair. It was almost like it had been before, only now he valued Harry's presence even more.

He also thought about the prophesy and though he was still sad about the loss of their child, he knew that neither of them had been ready for that yet and he was glad that nothing was standing between them anymore.

He was also glad about Dumbledore's punishment, congratulating himself for a job well done. Ogden had even sent him a letter and today's Daily Prophet with the photo of the two of them shaking hands, stating that should the Weasley girl or Granger ever try to escape or contact them the Dementors had orders to kiss them immediately and that, on a lighter note, he would like to discuss his status as a Dark Lord as soon as Harry had recovered to converse about changes he would like to be made. He remembered that Tom's ideals had always been quite fascinating.

But mostly Tom thought about his Harry. But mostly he thought about his Harry and only for the ten minutes after Harry had once again swatted his arm for staring at him he made an effort to led his thoughts into another direction.

Around noon it started to rain and Harry exclaimed that he would go for a walk- alone. They were all quite relieved when the green-eyed boy returned safely three hours later. Sirius resolutely ordered him to take a hot bath and to change into dry clothes, while Remus pushed a cup of hot tea in his small hands.

When he came back down in dry and comfy clothes he hesitated a moment, but then sat next to Remus and Rabastan and read over Rabastan's shoulder or helped the werewolf to decide where to place which photo, whenever he thought the book was too boring. He felt good and what was even more important he felt safe. He recognised them again, they were no longer looming shadows out to get him, no longer lurking figures in dark hallways, no longer Ginny or Hermione or Uncle Vernon. They were his friends and they cared about him as much as he cared about them. They were his saviours.

With this thought in mind he started his therapy. During the first few days they only expected him to get used to their presence, to their voices and to small touches. He had a hard time fully accepting Sirius and especially Tom, since he indeed knew who they were and it was hard not to connect them with that day, as he had thought about them more than about anyone else in those hours. But after two weeks and one day he could hug all of them and they could also hug him back or touch him as long as they didn't startle him or didn't come near his ass and his hips and that whole region.

When he had got this far, Rudolphus suggested that he do some exercises to built up his trust. The first one was for Harry to let himself fall backwards and to let them catch him. As it turned out Harry had no problem with the falling part, but as soon as the person behind him caught him and inevitably touched him, he panicked and curled up or scrambled away. In Rudolphus' opinion that was a sign that he did trust them in his head, but deep inside, he was still scared by touch in general- not that this helped matters.

But eventually after long nerve-wracking hours and days, Harry let himself fall into Tom's arms, smiling cheekily at the surprised looks he received.

"How did you do that?" Tom asked perplexed as he gently helped him back to his feet.

Harry pulled his hands out of his pockets revealing his wand in his right hand and an electronic blue surrounding the other. "I thought it would make it easier and it did."

"This is great, Harry, but you know that you can not always walk around with your wand at the ready, don't you?" Tom commented softly.

"I know, Tom, and I'm working on it, but right now this is the only way it will work."

Tom nodded understandingly and Harry really managed not to panic as the others caught him, however it took them the rest of the afternoon and the following day to make Harry accomplish it without this security net. Even then his first reaction was to pull his wand and put a shield up around him. But everyone was satisfied with this and Tom stated that he'd rather be hexed into the next century than to let something like this happen again to Harry.

That was not the only exercise Rudolphus had in store. The next task was for Harry to close his eyes and let the others lead him around the house, which worked pretty well until it was time for Harry to take the hand of someone else with his eyes still closed. They finally found out that the key to this problem was once again their smell. As soon as Harry knew who was leading him he was fine. He still didn't like the sound of doors closing or opening and loud sudden noises scared him, but otherwise he was doing fine.

The only thing that absolutely freaked Harry out was laying flat on the floor or even worse when someone was leaning over him and nothing could change that. In such a case he fell back into his old habit to curl up and whimper, not calming down as long as anyone was in the room and even when he was alone only after several hours. This caused everyone great anxiety, but Harry was not willing to talk about it. The only thing close to an explanation they got was that this was something that would never change and therefore they should stop bothering him about it. Harry knew it was probably rash of him, but somehow he knew that fixing this was something he wasn't yet ready for.

Another problem was Tom. Harry always felt obligated to sleep with him, although Tom assured him he would wait and would never demand something like that. Still, it made Harry nervous to know that he was breaking the contract and that only Tom's good will was protecting him. With more and more time passing he grew steadily more nervous and skittish around Tom, until one day, when he winced as Tom's hand brushed against his. And finally the red-eyed man had had enough and dragged Harry to his room, which did nothing to ease the small boy's fears.

"Sit," he ordered, and the delicate boy hastened to comply. "What do I have to do to make you believe me?"

"I don't know..."

"You know damn well, Harry," he ran his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath to calm down. "Look, I am trying to be understanding and supportive and I thought I was rather good at it. I don't expect you to have sex with me or even to kiss me. I want you to get better and if that means that I have to leave, okay, just tell me. But this--", he made an elaborate hand gesture, "I can't bear it. I scare you, you shy away from me, you look at me like you want to run away. I will not ever touch you again, if that's the reaction I get. Harry, I really, really like you and I want you to be happy and you obviously can't be while I'm around, so I'm going to leave."

"No, no," Harry cried desperately, "You promised you wouldn't leave, Tom, please? I need you. I'll change, please don't leave me, I'll do anything."

"Harry, I really think this is for the best," Tom said, his heart breaking as he saw the pained face of his love, "I want you to be sure of what you want and I want to be sure that what you do is what you want to do and not something you do to please me. You still have Snuffles and Lupin and Severus and the Lestranges, you don't need me."

"I do," Harry sobbed, but Tom had made his decision and quickly summoned the few things he had brought here and left the room.

Tom only told Rabastan that he was leaving, not giving him the time to protest, before he vanished through the fireplace.

What followed after that was a fast and painful relapse into old habits they had worked so hard to get rid of. Harry locked himself in his room, not coming out unless he absolutely had to use the loo. But those trips stopped soon after since Harry wouldn't eat anything. When they finally forced the door, Harry was curled up in one corner and he had lost so much weight that his cheekbones seemed to pierce through the skin.

"Shit, Harry!" Sirius rushed towards his godson, ignoring the violent flinch and took him in his arms.

Harry was by now so weak that he had no energy left to struggle, no tears left to cry and no words left to plead. Tom had left him. The one person he thought loved him besides Sirius had left him, because he was afraid, because he was dirty and used and because he was a freak.

"Come on, Harry, we'll fix you up," Sirius murmured gently. His words didn't register through Harry's foggy mind.

"He doesn't deserve you."

Harry felt it as he was lifted off the floor and put onto something soft and squashy, someone opened his mouth and dribbled some liquid into it, massaging his throat to make him swallow. He didn't care anymore, let them do what they wanted to do. His eyes grew heavy, but he thought he felt someone slip into bed behind him, spooning around him.

"Things can't go on like this," Sirius declared over Harry's sleeping form, "Can't you contact that brainless Dark Lord of yours?"

"Don't you think we already tried, Black?" Rudolphus sneered, "He doesn't listen to us and still is absolutely convinced what he's doing is for Harry's own good."

"Well, it obviously isn't," Sirius growled furiously, "He's near committing suicide because of him."

Remus wordlessly handed him a bit of parchment which had been lying near Harry's hiding place. It was a letter addressed to Sirius in Harry's handwriting:

_Dear Sirius, _

_I'm sorry, please, you have to believe me. I really love you, but sometimes that just isn't enough. I know this is selfish of me, but I just can't anymore. I thought I could do this, I thought I could pull through and somehow be the same again, but I can't. It hurts too much and it scares me even more. I didn't want to believe Ginny and Hermione and Dumbledore when they said they had broken me, but I realised that it is true. Those wounds are too deep and I fear they will never heal. Please, believe me, it is not your fault, it is no one's fault, not even Dumbledore's, I'm just not strong enough. Maybe this was merely the last straw. I never told you that my relatives abused me, that Uncle Vernon raped me, because I didn't want to make you unhappy. You always were the most important person in my life, but I would rather leave you now, before you, too, realise how disgusting I am. Everyone does. I thought it had all changed for the better, but now it only hurts more because I fell deeper, and this time there was no one to catch me. I want to end it before I start to hate everyone around me. I want to stop before I completely lose my mind. I couldn't take one more blow and I prefer to die on my own terms. I always lived for you and I will continue with it, if that is your wish, but if you really love me you will let me go. Please, Sirius, be happy and don't blame yourself. _

_With all my love, Harry_

Sirius choked out a broken sob and curled tighter around the sleeping boy: "Remus, I'm sorry," his eyes said all the words he couldn't say.

The werewolf nodded in understanding as tears also began to run down his face. He ushered everyone out.

"What is the matter, Lupin?", Severus snarled.

"Harry gave up and so did Sirius." The werewolf's hands trembled as he held out the letter to them. "They lived for each other and now they will die for each other."

"You can't just accept this!" Rabastan exclaimed, "I thought you loved them!"

"Yes, I do," Remus said quietly, "But Harry is already broken and Sirius would break with his death. He's like Lily, she couldn't have lived without her son and... Sirius can't live without Harry."

"Shut up, wolf!" Severus slapped him hard. "We vowed to put Harry back together and I will not give up. Pull yourself together, damnit!"

"We'll find Tom and bring him here." Rudolphus was already halfway down the stairs, his brother hot on his heels.

"We will keep them alive." Severus pushed the door back open and then shoved Remus through it, "This is your only family, fight for it!"

The Lestrange brothers found the Dark Lord in his office in Slytherin Castle, brooding over some papers.

"I already told you I'm not coming back," he stated without looking up, "so you can go right now."

"Will you at least come to Harry's funeral?" Rabastan spat. "Harry is dying. He hasn't been eating since you left, he hasn't been talking and he wrote Black a farewell letter. Now they both decided that dying was much better than living."

Tom's head had snapped up at the first sentence and at the end of the last he was already at the door.

"If I had known this would get him to move, I would have tried that much earlier," Rudolphus remarked, before they both followed Tom back to Marauder's Reserve, where both black-haired Gryffindors were sleeping under the influence of Severus' potions.

"Oh, so you do know how to use the Floo," Severus mocked as he stepped back from the bed, "I would suggest you do something to save them..."

But Tom wasn't listening. All he could do was stare at Harry's thin, miserable little face, at the transparent skin and at the bones that were visible even through his clothes, which he noted were the same ones the boy had been wearing on the day he had left. He really had thought what he did was for the best. Now, however, he realised that he once again had hurt Harry and maybe even broken him.

"Harry, precious," he brushed a strand of the black hair out of the pale face, "Please, wake up." He gently kissed Harry's forehead, watching as dull green eyes fluttered open. "I'm sorry. I know I botched it up again. I'm stupid. But please, Harry, don't do this, don't give up because of me. I'm not worth it. You're not broken, sweetie, you're the strongest person I know, don't let anyone tell you differently. I didn't leave you because I think you're not worth my attention or because I think that you're dirty or something like that, you're not. I wanted to protect you and I thought I was doing the right thing. I'll do everything you want me to do, but please, don't die. I need you; your friends need you. Snuffles needs you."

"You said you would never leave me." Harry shied away from him. "You said you'd never hurt me intentionally. Now your making yet another promise. I've had enough, Tom."

"I'm sorry, I know I squandered all my chances," Tom got up slowly, "but there are a lot of people who care about you and are not as inept at human relations as I am."

"But they're not you, Tom," Harry stated tearfully, "You said all those things and I believed you and I trusted you... Why do you always mess up?"

"I don't know, Harry." He dropped back to his knees and put his hand over Harry's. "I'm just not made to be a good friend let alone a good husband. I always think my actions will make it better for you, but in reality I only make it worse. I think it will turn out much better if you tell me what to do."

"It would be enough if you only kept your promises. You get one last chance, Tom. One. Last. Chance. Don't mess up again."

"Thank you, Harry. No more broken promises."

"Well, it was about damn time you used that big head of yours," Sirius said gruffly from behind Harry, pulling the fragile boy close. "If you do that again, I'll bait you with my own personal werewolf, understood?"

"It's perfectly clear," Tom nodded. "Can I do anything for you, kitten?"

"Stay with me," Harry pleaded, receiving a nod in return as he snuggled closer to Sirius.

"I need the Polyjuice Potion," Sirius stated, but Harry interrupted him. "It's okay, just don't move."

"Are you sure, Harry? I don't mind..." Sirius assured him. Harry only took his hands in his own smaller ones and closed his eyes.

Gradually he could feel the body behind him change. The shoulders broadened, the body shortened slightly, while the hands in his hands became more callused and larger. But it was still his Snuffles, it was still the person who would always love him and he was still surrounded by the same familiar smell of sea and wet dog.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Tom inquired concernedly, when Harry still hadn't reacted after several minutes.

"Yes," Harry smiled slightly and slowly opened his eyes, playing with Sirius' tanned hands. "I'm really tired."

"Then you should sleep." the red-eyed man declared, unfolding his long legs and pulled his desk chair over to the bed, sitting down in it and once again taking Harry's hand in his.

"Sleep, kitten", he murmured softly, "I'll watch out for you. No-one will hurt you."

"Will you watch out for Snuffles, too?" Harry pleaded.

"Of course, Harry, you'll both be safe," he assured him, smiling tenderly at him, "Anything else I can do for you?"

"Where's Lami?" Harry asked. "I couldn't find him."

"I think he's still in Hogwarts," the red-eyed man admitted, "I'll send Dobby to fetch him for you, okay?"

"Master Tom has called?" Dobby somehow managed to appear with a very soft pop so as not to startle Harry and also kept his distance, though he smiled broadly at the black-haired boy.

"Would you please fetch Harry's teddy bear from Hogwarts?" Tom asked.

Dobby immediately popped away, returning only a few moments later, handing the plushie to the Dark Lord.

"Dobby hopes the Master Harry will feel better soon," he smiled once again, his grin broadening even more as Harry cautiously smiled back, before he disappeared once again.

Tom carefully pushed the teddy bear in Harry's arms, tucking the blankets around the two lithe Gryffindors and kissed Harry's forehead before sitting back down in his chair.

"Can you... you know... can you take me in your arms, please?" Harry whispered nervously and Tom smiled slightly, because this was so characteristic of the Harry he loved. "If you're sure."

"Don't get any wrong ideas, Riddle," Sirius warned as they were all snuggled under the covers, Harry's back to Sirius' chest and his head resting against Tom's chest.

Harry sniggered, before wishing them a good night.

"Good night, kiddo."

"Good night, little one."

From the doorway Remus smiled happily, Severus smirked triumphantly and Rabastan and Rudolphus high-fived, before they all retired to their own rooms or in Severus' case to Rudolphus' and Rabastan's room, slipping into bed with his broad-shouldered lover.

"I never thought I would see the Dark Lord snuggled into bed with not only Harry, but also Black," he stated dryly. "It seems like he finally got the right idea."

"Do you think Harry will be alright?" Rudolphus whispered back, gently stroking Severus' back.

"Aren't you the psychologist?" the Potion's Master returned sarcastically. "I think he will be if Tom manages to make him believe that he is loved the way he is... And if he manages to keep his promises."

"Then maybe we should make sure he does", Rudolphus whispered directly in the black-haired wizard's ear, "And I will also make sure you keep your promises... You remember that one involving your mouth, whipped cream and my body?"

"How can you think of sex now?" Severus growled incredulously, "Your brother is sleeping only two metres away!"

"More like he's trying to sleep," Rabastan snapped with annoyance. "Ever heard of Silencing Charms? I didn't need to know about this."

"I told you!" Severus was grateful that he was facing away from his lover and that it was so dark or Rudolphus would have discovered the blush adorning his face. "Now, go to sleep or you won't get any until Christmas."

Rudolphus knew all too well exactly how long Severus could hold out from previous experience and so he sighed and closed his eyes, soon after feeling Severus' hands land on the small of his back, before they slowly caressed his buttocks, compensating him for the lack of sexual activity.

"Sev?" Rudolphus asked after a while and the thin man grumbled to make it clear that he was listening, "Tell me that we can fix Harry."

"Of course we can," Severus declared with conviction, "We have to."

* * *

**So which version did you like better? Once again, Merry Christmas...**


	56. Mine

**Disclaimer: #sob# Still doesn't belong to me and I had so hoped Santa Claus would put them under the Christmas tree...**

**Author's Note: Ha! You liked the original version as well! But of course, no-one wanted to believe me! Well, here's the next chapter, anyway! **

**A big thank you goes once again Leianora for betaing it. Thank you!!!**

IMPORTANT: I added something to the end of the chapter, but it isn't betaed yet...

* * *

55. MINE 

"Hey, Harry," Rabastan called softly, causing Harry to stop short and turn around to face him, one hand still on the door handle to his room. "How are you feeling?"

"You followed me all the way up from the kitchen just to ask me that?" Harry teased him lightly, cocking one eyebrow. "I'm feeling much better, I only wished there weren't so many doors, but now tell me what you really want."

"Sol asked whether he could come for a visit," Rabastan smiled despite himself, "He would like to check on you... and on me, I guess. It's okay if you aren't ready for that yet. He'll understand."

Harry worried his bottom lip. "Simon and my cousin wanted to visit today. Severus and Tom just went to fetch them. I guess I'm okay with Sunny coming, too. But you should ask Remus. It's his house after all and the full moon is in two days."

"He said that he's okay with it as long as you're okay with it," the brown-haired man smiled slightly, "so it's your decision now."

"I don't know," Harry murmured, looking up pleadingly. Rabastan immediately took him into his arms. "Can you tell him to stay with you all the time? I don't think I like the idea of him strolling around the house."

"Of course, Harry," Rabastan soothingly rubbed Harry's back, "anything else?"

"No, I think I'll be fine as long as you're there," Harry smiled slightly. "You will protect me, won't you?"

"Of course," Rabastan returned the smile, "But I don't think you'll need protection from him."

Harry's smile turned apologetic, but Rabastan only chuckled and released him to greet his friends.

"Harry!" Dudley exclaimed as soon as Harry entered the living room. He took two steps forward before he became aware of Harry's wide, frightened eyes. "Hey, Scrawny, it's me. You don't have to be afraid."

Tom carefully moved behind his husband, enveloping him with the utmost care, and then started to rub his arms soothingly, managing to make him relax at least a little.

"Dudley," Harry finally whispered, freeing himself from Tom's embrace and throwing his arms around Dudley's neck. His cousin caught him with ease.

"Keep me safe."

"Of course, Scrawny," Dudley promised, tucking Harry's head under his chin. "They will never hurt you again. No-one will; you're safe."

"I don't feel like it," Harry admitted quietly. The Muggle's hold tightened, "I'm so afraid, Dudley."

"I know," the muscular youth murmured softly, "Don't give up yet, we'll get through this, okay?"

"Okay," Harry returned timidly before turning to Simon, who smiled tenderly at him and opened his arms for his best friend. "Simon!"

He was not only wrapped in two protective arms, but also by a cocoon of positive, encouraging feelings not even empaths had a name for: "I see you're feeling better already," he gently caressed Harry's pale face. "Just don't expect too much from yourself. You have all the time you need. Don't worry about us."

"Thanks for coming," Harry smiled happily, seeming to be totally relaxed in the other empath's embrace, "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I am," Simon sighed, pulling Harry towards the sofa, "Don't even think about putting up your shields once more, understood? Let me help you, I can handle it."

"I don't want to hurt you," Harry whispered, but Simon merely shook his head and forced Harry to sit between his legs, his chest pressed against Harry's back.

"You won't hurt me, now let go."

He lightly rested his hands on Harry's temples, urging him to share his feelings with gentle words, until Harry reluctantly closed his eyes and sank back into the other empath, allowing him to read his emotions and carefully sift through his memories to get to the bottom of things.

The wizards and Dudley watched in fascination as Harry's trembling slowly subsided and his tears stopped. Simon's legs continued to secure him in place, even though it was the empath now who had tears running down his face. Simon had no intention of locking the emotions deep within him. Instead, he released them gradually into the room, allowing Harry's other friends to bear some of the burden as well.

"I knew it would hurt you," Harry whispered, brushing away the tears from Simon's face, "I'm sorry."

"I'm okay, Harry," Simon answered, taking Harry with him as he lay down on the sofa so that now Harry lay half on top of him. "Don't apologise, it was not your fault. You shouldn't think something like that. You couldn't have done anything to stop them."

"I couldn't use my magic," Harry whimpered. "I wanted to; I wanted to stop them, to save my child. And it didn't work, I felt so weak. I should have saved my child!"

"You did everything you could, Harry," Simon murmured soothingly. "It is not your fault your child died. Don't blame yourself, please."

"I can't help it," Harry sniffed, "I should have done something!"

"Scrawny, come on, was it your fault your parents died?" Dudley asked.

"It was not Tom's fault the baby died," Harry protested and Dudley shook his head, "I didn't say that, Harry, would you just answer the question?"

"If it hadn't been for me, Tom would never have gone after them," Harry answered and Dudley groaned.

"Harry," Tom knelt down next to his kitten, "They were against me. I would have attacked you sooner or later. It was not your fault."

"We've been through this, Harry," Dudley spoke up once more, "I thought you had realised this. You were a baby; you couldn't have done anything against a fully grown wizard. They bound your magic and they used your fear against you, it was not your fault the baby died."

"I should have known," Harry whimpered, "I should have stopped Uncle Vernon."

"**I** should have looked out for you, Harry," Sirius argued, "I knew how much you hated it there and that you wouldn't want to be around Riddle on Halloween."

"No!" the green-eyed boy exclaimed, "It was not your fault, please, Snuffles, please don't blame yourself," he hugged the Animagus tightly, burying his head in Sirius' robes.

"How can I not do that as long as you blame yourself?" Sirius asked gently, "How can I not blame myself as long as I know that you were hurt so badly?"

"I'm sorry."

"No, Harry, your parents loved you, don't throw their sacrifice away by blaming yourself," Remus intervened softly, enveloping the two black-haired Gryffindors in his arms, "They will look after your child, Harry. Let us look after you, cub."

"I wanted a family," Harry cried, "But I can't even protect myself!"

"You shouldn't need to protect yourself," Tom protested, cupping Harry's face between his hands, which was not all that easy, seeing as neither the werewolf nor his mate were willing to let go. "You have a family, just look around you. All these people are here because of you, to protect you."

/How can you expect me to rely on someone else when you never had to give control up so completely?/ Harry hissed at him. /You don't know how it feels to be so utterly helpless. You don't know anything!/

/I know I don't/, Tom replied calmly, still caressing Harry's cheeks/But I'm trying to understand you. You're right I never had to endure rape or even just being bound with no way to escape, but if there was any way to make it undone, I would not hesitate to go that way. I'm sorry if I demand too much from you, but I'm only trying to help you. I'll give up my control to you, little one, I'll even give a Wizard's Oath to obey you.../

"No!" Harry shook his head, throwing himself into Tom's waiting arms, "I'm sorry I said that. I don't want a Wizard's Oath and I don't want you to give up your control."

"Then what do you want?," Tom asked quietly.

"I want to know that I can protect myself," Harry muttered, "And I want to know that I don't have to."

"You know I can teach you how to protect yourself," Simon stated, holding out his hand to Harry. "No-one can block your empathy, not even empaths know how to do that."

"You know I don't want that," Harry reluctantly took the offered hand, sitting down next to Simon once again. "It's not right to use something like that."

"It's not right to rape someone, Harry," Simon argued, forcing Harry to look at him. "It's your gift, you are allowed to use it."

"Whatever it is, I'm all for it if it helps you to protect yourself." Sirius voiced his opinion and the others nodded.

"If I release enough of my emotions at once I can make someone pass out, or at least paralyse them," Harry murmured, "It only works if I let down those shields completely."

"You mean those shields you aren't supposed to have built up in the first place?" Simon scowled at him. "Now would be a good time to do that, Harry. I can absorb your feelings and nothing will happen to the others."

"I never had them down completely," Harry protested, "I don't want everyone to feel what I feel, Simon. And I don't want to hurt some random person just because they scare me."

"It's not like that, Harry," Simon tried to convince him, "You can keep a few shields up to stop that from happening so that you can control what emotions you want to send out. But if you keep them all up you won't be able to react in time. It should be enough if you let out your emotions once a week so that you can use weaker shields. Try it, Harry, please? I want to be sure that you are safe."

"But wouldn't that mean that Harry can't use that method after he got rid of all those emotions once a week?," Rudolphus asked. Simon shook his head: "He can use the emotions of his attackers against them."

"I think that sounds good, Harry," Tom smiled at the green-eyed boy, "We want you to be safe and I would also like to know when you are scared, precious."

"Okay," Harry finally relented in a small voice, "But I want you to wait outside."

"All right," Remus agreed and everyone, except for Simon and Harry, left the room.

"Would you stop pacing already?!," Severus snapped at Remus, who had taken to his favourite form of relieving stress, "You are getting on my nerves."

"Leave him alone, Snape," Sirius spoke up with a worried look at his irritated werewolf. "Moony, why don't you go take that potion, hmmm? Please...," he whispered huskily, nibbling the taller man's ear before shyly glancing up at him with his best puppy-dog eyes.

Remus couldn't resist those puppy-dog eyes and so reluctantly went to their room, knowing full well that Sirius had manipulated him, again! Then another thought occurred to him. Why had he agreed to let a vampire drop in? He could feel his blood boil and his nature rebel at the thought alone. The vampire would not get near to his mate nor his cub! He would make sure of that. He growled at his mirror image in agreement. The rational, human part of his brain feebly tried to remind him that the vampire was Harry's friend, but the werewolf quickly silenced that voice. Harry was his cub, he would protect his cub! He stared in distaste at the potion Severus had made for him, knowing that he needed to take it. He sighed deeply, uncorking the small vial and gulping it down in one go, grimacing at the awful taste. The wolf retreated slightly, still lurking beneath the surface, but the human was once again in control. This would change soon, however.

While Remus was still trying to control his temper and ban all thoughts of vampires, mates and cubs from his mind, Harry had managed to pull down his shields completely and to replace them with much weaker ones, like the ones Simon had up.

"Do you want to try it?," Simon offered, but Harry shook his head: "I know how it works. I told you that I can even do it with all my shields up, just not as strong. Not strong enough to..."

"Shh, it's okay now, now it's strong enough," Simon soothed him, "Just be careful, okay? Do you want the others to come back in?"

"No," Harry stopped him, nervously kneading his hands, "I wanted to ask you something. Does Tom really love me?"

Simon smiled warmly at his small friend, pulling him once again into his lap. "Yes, he does. All those months ago when I first met him, he was so cold and indifferent, but the second time he was already madly in love with you. This love has only grown since then. He thinks constantly about you, he worries and he is so proud of you for even trying to recover. I never thought such a black soul could feel emotions so pure, but he does. He didn't lie when he said he would do everything for you. He will never hurt you and he will keep you safe for the rest of your lives. While you might be able to find someone better than him, I doubt that you will find someone who loves you more."

Harry had tears running down his face. He futilely tried to wipe them away, but finally gave up. A soft, grateful, still slightly unbelieving smile was playing around his lips. His eyes shone with hope and happiness once again and Simon gave himself a mental pat on the shoulder.

"They all love you one way or the other," the brown-haired empath continued, "And you deserve their love. Can they come back in now?"

"I have the feeling you don't enjoy my exclusive company," Harry teased him lightly, gasping indignantly as Simon unceremoniously dumped him on the floor.

"I have the feeling it would be rather unfair of me to keep you all to myself while they are outside pacing holes in the carpet."

"That hurt," Harry pouted, rubbing his behind and causing Tom, who had heard Harry's words, to rush into the room and to drop to his knees next to his small Gryffindor: "Are you okay, precious? Are you hurt?"

Harry tried to contain his snickers, but failed miserably and instead buried his face in Tom's robes: "I'm fine, thank you."

"I just made a fool of myself, didn't I?," Tom murmured in amusement, feeling Harry chuckle against his chest and nod his head. "At least it was because of you. Did it work?"

"Yes," Harry snuggled into him, "Promise that you won't be angry if I lash out at you."

"I already said that I would take everything if it means that you will never be hurt again," the red-eyed man smiled at him, "You have another visitor, Harry. Do you want to see him?"

"Where's Rabastan?," the raven-haired boy asked uncertainly.

"He's still waiting outside with Thymus," Tom answered, helping Harry up.

"I want to try at least," Harry stated after a bit of contemplation. Tom nodded, giving Severus a sign to let them in.

"Harry," Sunny smiled brilliantly at the small boy, exposing his glittering white fangs. For some reason the sight of them calmed Harry immensely. Hesitantly, he approached the vampire, Tom following on his heels: "Sunny."

The vampire kept perfectly still, his smile not faltering once as he talked in a soothing voice to Harry, who finally cautiously put his arms around the vampire's waist and rested his head on his chest.

"Thank you for Dumbledore," Harry eventually whispered, "Am I really a child of your clan?"

"Of course, Harry," Sunny reassured him, carefully returning the hug, "You have a home with us should you ever feel in need of one."

Harry sighed with relief, but the peaceful moment was harshly interrupted by the resident werewolf, who had come back down to not only find the house reeking of a vampire, but also to his cub being held by said vampire and his mate standing dangerously close. His pack was in danger! He needed to save his family!

He swiftly grabbed his mate's wrist, pulling him into his arms. He then freed his cub from his prison in the vampire's arms, trapping the both of them in a strong embrace.

"Mine!" he snarled, tightening his hold for good measure. He barely noticed that Sirius was keeping their cub from panicking. "Get away from them, bloodsucker!"

Now, if there was anything that could rile up a vampire, it was being called a bloodsucker. Of course it was true, but for them it was something to be proud of and to have it used in such a context was not the best of ways to calm them down. And calming down was definitely in order because having to endure the presence of a werewolf a few days before the full moon and seeing that werewolf stealing their child away, was definitely a bit irritating.

"My mate," Sunny hissed, pulling Rabastan into his arms, "And you still have something that belongs to me." He somehow managed to get Harry back, despite Sirius' struggle to hold onto his godson who seemed well and truly frightened by now.

Remus howled, enraged, pushing Sirius behind him to keep him out of harm's way, and then prepared to attack and bring his cub back to safety.

"Stop!" Harry shouted, releasing his emotions and paralysing everyone in the room for a brief moment. He used that moment to flee into Tom's arms. "Please, stop!"

All the present wizards had drawn their wands as soon as the irritated werewolf had stormed into the room. While Sirius and Rabastan were both trying to calm their mates with moderate success, Severus and Rudolphus didn't consider twice before pinning both creatures to the floor, ignoring the furious snarls and hisses they received in return. Tom meanwhile tried to reassure Harry, who was still shivering in his arms and clinging to his robes.

"I hope you are satisfied, gentlemen," Simon spat at the two non-humans, "You not only scared Harry to death, you also treated three people as if they were nothing more than possessions."

Remus and Sunny had the grace to look ashamed at that admonishment before they turned back to glaring at each other.

"I'll bring Harry up to his room." Tom easily lifted the small wizard up, one hand supporting his back while the other had moved under his thighs. "I suggest you do something about those idiots."

Dudley and Simon followed him out of the room and he didn't know if he should feel grateful for their help or annoyed that he wouldn't be able to have some alone-time with Harry. For Harry's sake, he would bear with it, no matter what.

He carefully pushed the door to Harry's room open and walked over to the Gryffindor bed, sitting down on the edge of it after he had tucked Harry under the covers.

"Have they stopped?," Harry whispered pleadingly and Tom nodded, brushing one of the inky black strands out of Harry's face.

"Are they alright?"

"I'm sure they are," Tom answered gently, "But are you?"

Harry nodded a little, curling up on his side: "I just hate it when Remus gets like this. I know he can't help it and that he means well, but it doesn't feel good."

"I will tell him that, okay?," Tom returned tenderly, "Why don't you enjoy the company of your friends for a little bit while I get you some cake, hmmm?"

"Okay," Harry murmured, making room for Simon on his bed while Dudley took the chair that stood next to the bed.

"Oh, and Harry?," Tom turned around once more, one hand already on the door handle, smiling tenderly at the petite wizard, "You are mine. I think I'm going to tell them that now."

With that he turned away, leaving Harry to smile dreamily as Dudley futilely tried to get his attention and Simon just smirked knowingly.

But Harry's cake would have to wait a bit longer, Tom concluded, as he jerked the door to the living room open and slammed the vampire and the werewolf with one swift movement against the wall.

"How dare you assume that Harry is yours to manhandle like this?", he hissed, his eyes flashing an even more dangerous shade of red, "I don't give a damn about your instincts or whatever you would like to blame for this and if you ever scare Harry like this again I will have no qualms about locking you two in a room during the full moon and kill who ever might happen to survive. Harry is mine, it would do you well to remember that. He is mine to hold, mine to care for, mine to kiss and mine to love. Is that clear?"

He pushed them a bit more forcibly against the wall to underline his words, noting with satisfaction that they seemed a bit... uncomfortable.

"Harry is my cub", Remus growled nonetheless, trying to free himself from Voldemort's magical hold with little success, "He was in danger!"

"Yes, from you", Tom spat, "If you want to fight over someone fight over your own mates and not about my Harry. I don't need help to protect him."

"Did a right good job, didn't you?", Sunny hissed mockingly, though his tone didn't belie the seriousness of his statement, "Where were you when they raped him? Where were you when his relatives abused and molested him?"

Voldemort's glare hardened as did his hold on them.

"Harry was wondering about that cake you promised", Simon stepped quietly into the room, closing the door behind him, "And all of you should learn to control your emotions now that Harry has his shields down. I won't always be here to absorb them", he pulled Tom away from them with soft power before he turned towards the two non-humans, "Harry knows that you didn't mean harm with your earlier actions so there is no use blaming each other, but that doesn't change the fact that you made him feel bad for causing so much trouble and that your touch reminded him of everything he had to go through and that your words hurt him", he looked at them earnestly until they both looked away in shame, "He knows that you had little control over your actions and he really appreciates it that you both care for him this much and want to protect him. But Harry is not your mate and he doesn't belong to you. He belongs to Mr. Riddle and him alone", he smiled encouragingly at the Dark Lord, "There's no need for such flares of jealousy, Mr. Riddle, and you should know by now that Harry won't appreciate it very much if you hurt them. Harry doesn't need a Dark Lord, Mr. Riddle, he needs you. Maybe you should get him that cake now."

Tom got up reluctantly, not before throwing a ferocious glare at both of them, and stalked to the kitchen, searching for the chocolate cake Dobby had made for them at breakfast. He didn't even notice that the empath had followed him, until he spoke up.

"I know you don't want advice from me or anyone else for that matter, but I'm Harry's best friend and I say it's a good thing if you show him how much you worry and how much he is appreciated", Simon sad softly, "Harry never had anyone worry about him in his childhood, much less any appreciation for everything he did for those bastards and you shouldn't get angry at him for not being able to believe your every word. Do you remember when I told you about an empath's code?"

Tom nodded, leaning against the counter with the plate with Harry's cake in his hand.

"Harry is a stronger empath than anyone I know and the only reason why he is so unsure about his abilities is the fact that almost every emotion he receives is translated into several negative emotions because those were the only feelings his relatives inflicted upon him in his childhood", he took a deep breath, looking into the Dark Lord's red eyes, "You can not expect someone to really feel loved if it's the opposite of what he was made to feel, can you?"

"Why are you telling me all this?", Tom demanded, "I won't give up on Harry."

"I don't want you to give up on him", Simon returned urgently, "I'm just trying to make you understand that it will take time for Harry to fully accept your love as something good and as something he deserves. His code is changing. Actually since Sirius came into his life, but even faster now that you are there for him. I gave him that advice that you should prove your love to him so that he got many positive feelings to connect love with. Give him more. He finally starts to believe that you love him, don't destroy it for him now."

"I don't plan to", Tom declared, walking past the empath, "But thanks for that insight, anyway."

"I'm not finished", Simon stopped him, "Don't be jealous and don't do something stupid. If Harry thinks that love results in his friends getting hurt or killed he will withdraw from you and from everyone else. You can tell him a thousand times that neither his parent's death nor that of his child was his fault, but he will connect it to 'love' nonetheless and he will blame himself."

"They were hurting him", Tom hissed testily and Simon hit him with a wave of calmness, not as strong as Harry's, but still noticeable.

"Harry is not as fragile as you think him to be", the brown-haired boy explained to him, "He can easily take such a small incident. It wasn't good what they did, but they feel bad enough as it is. What Harry can't handle is someone getting hurt because of him. Leave it be. Harry will appreciate it far more if you take care of him and control your temper."

Tom left the room for good, but he could swear he heard the empath hum happily (a scary reminder of Dumbledore) and whisper something that suspiciously sounded like: "And he loves you, too", before the door clicked shut behind him.

* * *

**Liked it? Hated it? Hate me? Tell me!**

**And if you feel like reading something else, you could go read the oneshot I wrote, "Care Less"... Pretty please? It's about Rudolphus, Rabastan and Harry... Please? **

**Okay, I'll stop now before it gets to pathetic... Oops, I guess, I already crossed that line.**


	57. Christmas

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, but the plot...**

**Author's Note: Hello there, sorry for the long wait. Anyway, here's a late Christmas present for you, I hope you enjoy. Oh, and if you haven't read the added part of the last chapter, go back and read it!**

**To ¿??: Sorry, that I only now reply to your review. First of all, thank you #blush# and don't hate the poor author- it's all my muse's doing! And don't hit your plushie, you might regret it! (When I was younger I used to dream that all my plushie came to live and I had this really mean-looking wolf and he would chase us around and try to kill us...) To your questions: 1. #wink# Who knows, except for me? You will have to wait to find out...; 2. This story will defintely have a happy ending!; 3. I would be honoured if you would translate my story and it would be great if you could give me your email-adress... Also, and it might be completely wrong, since I don't speak any Spanish, but one of my reviewers said that the title would be "accidentalmente tuyo", just think about it... And yes, I know where Chile is (I didn't even have to look it up) #is proud of herself#**

**A really, really, really huge thank you to Leianora for betaing this for me and for putting about with my many questions. Thank you!**

**

* * *

**

**56. CHRISTMAS**

"Have you seen this invitation, Harry?" Tom asked as Harry entered the kitchen, still in his pyjamas.

He had a thick woollen sweater drawn over them.

"No, who is it from?" the small boy asked kissing or hugging everyone at the table.

"Lucius, Narcissa and Draco, they have invited us to celebrate Christmas with them." Tom showed him the fine invitation card with the Malfoy family crest stamped into it. "They decided to have a small party this year."

"Cool, can we go?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Sure, if that's what you want." Tom smiled and was hugged gratefully. "I'll write Lucius that we'll be coming."

"Did you get the presents?" Harry changed the subject.

"Yes, they're in the hallway."

"I still don't see why he gets to buy the presents for you," whined Sirius.

"Because, Snuffles, you always get excited about any kind of present and then you drop oh-so-subtle hints," Harry smirked and Sirius pouted before starting a tickling attack on Harry.

Since Simon's therapy Harry had improved quickly and now he was only a few steps away from normal, or as normal as Harry could ever be. His relationship with Tom had especially changed. Tom now always made sure that Harry totally agreed with his decisions and actions. Sometimes it even got to a point where it was just too much for Harry and then he would shout at him, rage a little and then fling his arms around Tom's neck and fall asleep in his arms. They never did more than exchange kisses and those kisses mostly stayed chaste and sweet, however everyone had noticed that Harry spent more time with Tom than with anyone else in the house.

"We should go out," Sirius declared suddenly, when everyone had finished their breakfast.

Harry and Remus jumped up eagerly, collecting the dishes.

"Whatever for?" Severus asked what was on every Slytherin's mind and the three Gryffindors turned towards him as if expecting him to be sprouting additional limbs: "Snowball fight!," they chorused.

"I hate to repeat myself, but: Whatever for?"

"It's fun," Harry shrugged, "Don't tell me you've never done it before."

"I. Never. Did. Such. A. Thing!" the Potion's Master said through gritted teeth, not fully believing that Harry's look of wide-eyed surprise was true.

"Poor little Snapey really had a sad childhood," Sirius offered in a solemn voice suited for every funeral service.

The Potion's Master snarled at him: "The difference between you and me, besides the fact that I actually have a brain, is that I grew up."

"Okay, that's enough!" Harry swatted them both over the head. "You've been in this stupid house for the last month; it's time you got out, all of you. Go get dressed."

"Apart from you, brat, everyone is already dressed," Severus stated.

"It's winter outside, Severus, which means that it's cold, which means that you should wear scarves, gloves and coats," Harry pointed at the door sternly. "Now, go and get dressed."

"I think I'll stay in and work on my potions."

"Well, you think wrong," Rodolphus spoke up and grabbed his hand, pulling him from the room, "I agree with Harry, we definitely need to get out."

The landscape surrounding the small house was covered in fluffy white snow, so white that it almost blinded the eyes, whenever the sun hit at the right angle. It had started snowing some two days ago and since then it had hardly stopped, which caused the trees and the roof to creak in protest. The small pond had frozen over, but the tiny creek that flowed through it made the ice unstable and thin.

Even Severus relaxed slightly at the white brightness surrounding them and Sirius enjoyed it like a little boy, changing into his Animagus form and storming through the snow so that it showered all around them. He ran back and forth, criss-crossing it with the tracks of his big paws. Once, he even slithered over a small part of ice, howling in joy. Harry joined him soon after, the two black-haired animals rolling around in the snow and chasing each other, before they both came back and declared it was time for their snowball fight.

"I have no intention to...," Severus started, but Sirius had already formed a snowball and hit him square in the face with it.

"It's Slytherins against Gryffindors," he announced happily before he, Harry and Remus ducked behind a snowdrift, where they prepared an armoury of the white missiles, discussing their strategy.

"Well, I won't stand here and let them hit me with snowballs," Tom declared as he walked to another drift. "They have no idea who they're tangling with!"

The Death Eaters agreed wholeheartedly. Although Severus' first choice was still to just go back in and let the immature lot freeze to death or at least let them freeze off some quite useful body parts, he reluctantly decided to stay. And so the fight began.

In the end the Dark Wizards had to admit defeat, although they claimed it was only because they had let the Gryffindors win, which, to be honest, was not completely false since they had not really dared to hit Harry or even tackle him to the ground. In any case, the Gryffindors had won and as a reward they got to use the shower first. Harry started, melting the ice pellets that had caught in his hair and unfreezing his nose and his fingers since his gloves were apparently not waterproof. After him Sirius and Remus shared the shower and did things Harry was keen to not think about, before the Slytherins, who had helped themselves so far with Drying and Warming Charms, were finally allowed to shower. Dobby made them all some hot punch.

"You are beautiful," Tom whispered in Harry's ear, as the small boy leaned against his shoulder, a mug of steaming hot punch in his hands. He was watching a film with Sirius, who put his hand over Harry's eyes whenever something gruesome or bloody happened: "May I kiss you?"

/You are getting on my nerves, Tom,/ Harry suddenly hissed furiously, jumping up and stomping his foot. /You don't have to ask every bloody time! You don't have to do everything just because I want to do it. /

/I don't want to hurt you.../

/And I want the old you back, Tom, I don't need a robot and I don't need a puppet, I need you. The real you. The one that does stupid things and is spontaneous and does things because he can think for himself! I don't want you to do things just because I told you to,/ Harry pleaded/I can barely take care of myself, I can't be responsible for your actions, too, Tom. This is not you and it hurts to think that you've given up yourself just for me.../

Soft lips on his silenced him and large hands cupped his face, bringing him closer and closer and oh-so-close so that their bodies rubbed against each other. He could feel Tom's arousal through his robes and it scared him, for a moment, until the silky lips distracted him, making it completely unimportant that this kiss was far from chaste, that a smooth tongue had invaded his mouth, reclaiming what once belong to Tom, what would always belong to Tom and only Tom. Gentle teeth nibbled his bottom lip, drawing a moan from him that was almost completely absorbed by that delicious mouth. One hand had crept to his back and was sending pleasant tingles down his spine. All that mattered was that his Tom was back.

"Good?" Tom asked in amusement, his mouth still only millimetres away from Harry's.

"Better," Harry corrected, smirking. "And now we should make cookies!" he skipped into the kitchen, leaving Tom dumbfounded.

"What just happened?" he asked more to himself than anyone else. "Is 'making cookies' an odd Gryffindor code for something?"

"Yes!" Sirius exclaimed happily before following Harry into the kitchen.

"For what?" Tom turned to Remus, who was also making to get up and switched off the TV.

"For making cookies." Remus smiled happily and ushered them all into the kitchen, where the two Animagi were already conferring with Dobby, who nodded eagerly. "We need eggs," Harry said, and Dobby motioned to one of the shelves, making a box of eggs float over to the counter.

"And chocolate icing," Sirius chirped, looking through the cupboards until he found a compartment with not only chocolate and vanilla icing but also with different kinds of sprinkles. Dobby pointed out everything else before he disappeared: "Dobby wishes Master Harry a lot of fun. If he needs anything he just call Dobby, Master Harry."

"Ahem, Harry, what are you doing?" Tom asked uncertainly as Harry looked through the cupboards for a bowl.

"I'm making cookies."

"Yes, but why?"

"It's not Christmas without cookies," Harry stated calmly, "It'll be fun! You'll see."

"Well, I'm going now," Severus turned around. "I've had enough of these supposedly fun activities."

"But, Uncle Severus," Harry pouted, "This is just like potion brewing..."

"If you think this is like potion brewing, then you've answered the question of why your potions always blow up."

"They don't!" Harry chastised, grabbing him by the hand and leading him back to the counter. "Please, Sev? Please?"

"You never call me Sev," the Potion's Master noted, too surprised to protest when Harry pushed the flour into his hands.

"That is because I happen to like your name and because I think it suits you perfectly." Harry handed him three eggs. "But it really is too long to whine decently. So, please, Uncle Sev?"

"Will you let me work in peace?"

"Yes, Sir!" Harry saluted and ordered Rodolphus and Rabastan to find the cookie cutters.

"And what am I supposed to do?" Tom asked in a bored voice, watching everyone else.

"I thought we just had this discussion," Harry raised an eyebrow, "but if you want to, you could help me spread the flour over the counter..."

"I didn't know I wasn't allowed to ask anything anymore," Tom whispered seductively in Harry's ear, which caused the meaning of the words to be irrevocably lost in the process. "I would so like to know..." he started nibbling Harry's earlobe, "Why we're smearing flour over the counter?"

"Huh?" Harry stared at him with a dazed expression.

"Tut, tut, tut, Harry, where were your thoughts?" he teased, pulling back from him. "I asked why we're supposed to spread the flour."

"Oh, sorry," Harry blushed, turning back to the counter. "We need the flour so that the cookie dough doesn't stick to the counter or your hands."

"That would be bad, I see," he smirked triumphantly and very slowly stepped behind Harry, taking one of his hands in order to prevent a panic attack before he pressed closer, holding Harry in between his own body and the counter. "Are you okay?" he whispered.

This time, there was no seduction in his voice, only warm concern and Harry nodded.

Sirius had started some Christmas music, thankfully with his wand and not with his voice, and Tom slowly swayed them as they covered the whole counter with the white stuff, trying to hide his own arousal, which was becoming increasingly more difficult. He was momentarily relieved when Severus handed them a piece of the dough, with a sour scowl. Harry chose a bear-shaped cutter and started to form the cookies, moving away from him to put them on the baking tray, on which Remus had put some baking paper. Rodolphus and Severus had also started to cut out the cookies, though for some **unknown** reason, they proceeded very slowly. Sirius had started to mix the chocolate icing, sampling from time to time (and in the times in between) to check if it was the way he wanted it to be, while Rabastan was doing the same with the vanilla icing.

Ten minutes later the werewolf pulled the first tray back out and Harry and Sirius immediately started to brush the still hot cookies with the icing and the sprinkles, while the others followed more reluctantly.

"Look," Harry proudly pointed at the cookie he had just finished, "This cat almost looks like McGonagall."

Sirius assessed the piece of art critically, but then nodded, continuing with his own version of Rita Skeeter. "I think there's another stripe on her forehead now, she's getting wrinkles."

"Do they always take this so seriously?" Tom inquired to Remus.

"We're never serious," Sirius exclaimed outraged, before the werewolf could answer, "Well, I am Sirius, but that doesn't mean we are serious, right, Harry?"

Harry had gone white at hearing his godfather's name, but valiantly tried to hide it as he nodded: "No, we're not... Sirius."

During the last weeks everyone had become used to calling Sirius Snuffles or to just avoid saying his name at all. This behaviour vividly brought back why they were all here. Harry was better, yes, but he was far from okay and though he had become used to seeing Sirius around, he still flinched when he saw him unexpectedly or when like today someone said his name. None of them had heard him say it in the last several weeks and it was easy to see how much it cost him to force the syllables past his lips.

"Shh, I'm sorry," Sirius carefully took the trembling boy into his arms. "That was inconsiderate of me. You never have to say my name again... I never really liked it, anyway."

"But I want to."

"No, you don't, Harry. Not now in any case. Don't force it." Sirius kissed him on the forehead, "You have all the time you want and until then I'm just your Snuffles."

"Thank you," Harry hugged him tighter, "Snuffles."

"I'll forever hate myself for my name, you know that, right?" Sirius demanded playfully, "I could have called myself anything, Belthazor or Spike or even Darth Vader, but no, I had to call myself Snuffles."

"I get the feeling that you're spending too much time in front of the TV, Darth Vader," Harry chuckled.

"Who is Darth Vader?" Rudolphus asked, interested.

"Darth Vader is the villain in one of those films." Harry explained, "He's kind of like Tom."

"If you see it like that...," Sirius murmured, "I think I'm going back to being Snuffles."

Harry laughed happily and wriggled out of his arms before going back to decorating the cookies, happily munching those that were already finished.

"Harry, do you need help?" Severus said in dark amusement, not lifting a finger as Harry pulled a carton with presents from the top of a wardrobe in the hallway.

He was visibly having a bit of difficulty with it.

"No, Severus," Harry bit out sarcastically as he balanced the carton over his head, "Your presence alone is all the motivation I need. And don't expect anything for you in that box."

"I was just going to tell you that we're going to be late," Severus offered indifferently, "Rodolphus and Rabastan already flooed over to excuse us."

"For some obscure reason I think it would go much faster if a certain Potion's Master would lend me a hand," Harry complained before he suddenly straightened up, "Now you've done it! You spoilt my good mood."

"I'm sure everyone will thank me for it," Severus muttered and easily lifted the box off the floor, "Let's go, imp."

"I was about to check on you," Tom announced as they entered the living room, smiling at Harry, who was once again happy and chipper, "Are we ready to go?"

"Yes," Harry bounced over to the fireplace and threw some powder into the dancing flames, "Malfoy Manor."

He landed in Lucius' study or rather in Rabastan's arms- The man had reacted in the nick of time and caught the delicate boy.

"Thanks," Harry smiled at him and dusted his dress pants off, "Why are you alone here?" he looked around the spacious room, but the Lestrange brothers were the only ones present.

"Lucius wasn't sure how you would react and so they all decided to wait in the Christmas room," Rodolphus explained.

"They have an extra room for Christmas?" Harry asked incredulously. The two brothers nodded, "No wonder Draco is such a snob...," Harry murmured before skipping out of the room, leaving the two older men behind.

Malfoy Manor didn't look noticeably different than the last time he had been here: the halls were still long and lifeless, the portraits had the same bored expression (no-one could blame them, really) and the doors still sent shivers down his body. On second thought that was new. So many doors, so many dark corners and so many bad memories.

"Wobbly," Harry called when the pressure was becoming too much- he had the feeling that the next door he had to pass, the next shimmering door handle, the next smooth wooden surface would drive him insane.

"Oh, Master Potter is back," the house-elf popped into view, bowing deeply, "We've been expecting you, Master Potter, Sir. What can Wobbly do for Master Potter?"

"I wanted to ask where the Christmas room is," Harry took several deep breaths. The presence of another breathing, if not exactly human being calmed him down.

"Wobbly will lead you there, Master Potter. Mistress Malfoy and Masters Malfoy are waiting there for Master Potter," the house-elf bowed again and started to guide him down the hallways and up a marble staircase, "We are here. Has Master Potter any more wishes, Sir."

"No, thank you, Wobbly. Merry Christmas," the house-elf beamed up at him before quickly vanishing into thin air.

Harry took a deep breath before knocking on the white door that was decorated with mistletoe and anise and carefully pushing it open: "Hey," he smiled insecurely at the assembled Malfoy family and Blaise, who had also been invited, "Merry Christmas."

"Harry," Blaise and Draco exclaimed, rushing towards him, but then hesitating uncertainly, "How are you?"

Harry smiled brilliantly at them and then flung his arms around a surprised and admittedly a bit shocked Draco's neck, hugging him for all he was worth: "I'm much better, thank you."

"I was so worried," Draco confessed, slowly hugging Harry back. The smaller boy tensed a little at the unfamiliar hands, but then relaxed again. "Everyone was. I'm so sorry I let that happen, I should have protected you, I said I would, I'm sorry..."

"No, Draco," Harry pulled back slightly, dropping back so that he stood flat on the soles of his feet, "It was not your fault, please, don't apologise. I'm okay again and I will never have to see Dumbledore, Ginny or Hermione ever again. I just needed time to recover, I'm sorry I worried you."

"I won't apologise, if you don't," Draco bargained and Harry laughed: "Only a Malfoy could blackmail someone with an apology. I missed you."

"And what about me?" Blaise asked indignantly, "Didn't you miss me?"

"Of course I did!" Harry threw himself into the arms of the dark-haired Slytherin. "I missed you so damn much, Blaise."

"I missed you, too," Blaise replied, ruffling Harry's hair, "School was pretty boring without you. Will you come back?"

"Yes," Harry said without hesitation, "But I think I need a bit more time."

"Okay, don't let us stress you," Blaise announced before letting Harry go, just as the other party guests arrived.

"Narcissa," Harry turned towards the blonde witch and was engulfed in a hug, "Thanks for inviting me and for all the cards."

"Think nothing of it, dear," Narcissa said kindly, gathering the small body in her arms, "They had no right," she whispered before speaking normally again, "I'm glad to see you happy again. You are happy, aren't you, Harry?"

"Yes, I am happy," Harry assured her, smiling at the tall woman, who softly kissed his forehead and tried to smother his hair, before turning towards Lucius, who had waited patiently: "I'm sorry I was like that at the trials."

"I thought you had a deal with Draco?" Lucius gently embraced the petite wizard, "No apologies. And you really don't need them, either. You're the most remarkable person and I'm glad to call you my friend, let no-one tell you differently."

"Thank you," Harry blushed lightly.

"Hey," someone said from behind him making him swivel around in slight panic.

"Sunny," he breathed out, "Don't do that, damn it! No-one likes it when a vampire is breathing on their neck."

"Are you so sure about that?" Sunny laughed, glancing in Rabastan's direction. "I apologise for startling you. And for that unfortunate incident with your wolf. Are you okay?"

From the tone he used Harry could tell that he was referring to more than just this moment: "I'm going to be. But you shouldn't have done that to Remus. He allowed you to come into his house and you started a fight with him..."

"I know, Harry," the vampire sighed, looking guilty, "We already apologised quite profusely to each other and to our mates and I'm sure he also apologised to you. It was wrong to treat you like that, but we wouldn't have acted like that if you didn't mean so much to us," he smiled softly down at the black-haired wizard, "Neither of us wanted to lose you, Harry, forgive me, please?"

Harry nodded cautiously, slipping into Sunny's arms: "Can't you two put your differences aside? I'm not sure I can deal with you fighting over me."

Sunny searched the room with his eyes till they landed on the werewolf, who was staring warily at them and had his hands clenched into fists, but was visibly restraining himself: "What do you say, Wolf?," he asked quietly, offering his hand, "Can he be part of both our families?"

Harry turned around, looking pleadingly at Remus, and finally after a long tense silence the werewolf grabbed the offered hand: "Harry needs all the protection he can get," Remus grumbled softly, caressing his cub's cheek and receiving a brilliant smile in return.

"Harry," Draco called, and Harry turned around, "Is it okay that Charlie is here? If not..."

But Harry hadn't heard more than the first three words, because there, half hidden behind Draco was another person, this one had red hair, a lightly freckled face and kind brown eyes. Weasley hair. Weasley freckles. Weasley eyes. _Ginny_.

"No," he shied away, not even sure if his eyes were still open, because he would see that day again, no matter what.

His shoulder bumped into someone's chest and arms tried to hold him, but this wouldn't happen again, it couldn't happen again. He crashed to the floor, maybe he had tripped over the sofa, but it was Ginny again. She had pushed him to the floor; she was on top of him, holding him down. He couldn't move, or maybe he could, but he couldn't fight. There were ropes around his wrists, cutting into his flesh and to his bones. _Not again_. And Sirius was there, too, and he told him all those hateful things again and that pain was far worse than the one Ginny inflicted upon him, it cut deeper, drew more blood, bigger scars. And it didn't matter anymore that he was safe, because he wasn't and he would never be again, because being safe meant being loved and he wasn't loved. Sirius told him so. And then it hurt and hurt and hurt...

"Shh, you're hurting yourself," someone's body was surrounding him, they did something with his arms, "Calm down, lovey. I'm here now; I'll take care of you. Weasley and Granger are in Azkaban. They can't hurt you anymore. It was just Charlie and he's gone now. Hush, don't cry, shh, you're safe," the body started to rock him slightly and his arms and wrists stopped hurting as something cool was spread over them. Black coffee and herbs.

"Tom?"

"Yes, it's me, Harry," his eyes were captured by concerned red ones, "I won't let anyone hurt you."

"I'm sorry," Harry clutched his robes, burying his face in the fine material, "I didn't mean to make Charlie go."

"It's okay, Harry, he understands," Draco knelt down beside him. "He feels so bad about what his sister did. He only wants you to be okay. They all understand, don't worry. We expected something like this."

"But they are my friends," the green-eyed boy sniffed, "Ron, Bill, Charlie and Percy and Fred and George, they have been like a family to me. I don't want to fear them."

"You don't fear them," Sirius also crouched down next to him, "You're afraid of the memory and it's okay. You'll work through this. It was just unexpected to see him so suddenly. Trust me, it won't be long and you can hug them and look them in the eyes, just like with the rest of us."

"I'm still sorry," Harry said brushing away the tears from his face, "I can't change that."

"I would be worried if you weren't, sweetie," Tom chuckled and moved Harry and himself to one of the armchairs, letting the small black-haired beauty snuggle into his chest.

"Was that you who released all those emotions?" Blaise asked after the others had also taken their seats in a semi-circle around the high-ceilinged room and magnificently decorated Christmas tree.

"I'm sorry," Harry sniffed, burying his head in Tom's robes, "I didn't mean to."

"No-one was hurt, precious," Tom soothed him, rubbing the small of his back, "Charlie was thrown a bit off balance, but he's fine. I'm glad you were able to protect yourself."

"But he wasn't going to attack me," Harry argued weakly.

"But he scared you," the Dark Lord kissed Harry's forehead lightly before locking his red eyes with Harry's green ones, "We could all feel how scared and hurt you were and you had every right to protect yourself. Believe me, please."

"Okay," Harry whispered and Tom smiled in relief.

Soon after the house-elves served snacks, appetisers and glühwein, which alone was quite enough to make everyone feel pleasurably sated, but after that they placed three huge plates with cookies on the table, which far surpassed the ones Harry and Sirius had insisted on baking a few days ago.

"How about presents now?" Draco suggested with the eagerness of someone who knows exactly that he will get everything he ever wished for and even more.

"Can I give you mine first?," Harry asked shyly and everyone nodded, "This is for you Remi, Merry Christmas," he handed the werewolf, who sat next to him, a thick envelope-shaped present, which the other man opened deliberately, revealing thick parchment, which was only ever used among wizards, "I thought you'd like it."

"Are you kidding?" Remus exclaimed in an uncharacteristic show of emotion, "This is great. How did you do it?"

"Well, you know that Percy wanted to open a new school for Muggleborns where they can start with nine years and learn about the Wizarding world, right?," the werewolf nodded, "I asked him if they needed a teacher and what he thought about you getting the job. He remembered you from Hogwarts and said that you were the best Defence teacher we ever had and that it would also teach the children to accept werewolves. He thought you would be a great headmaster and I quite agree, but if you'd rather be only a teacher you can do that, too."

"Thank you, Harry;" Remus hugged the smaller wizard, "This is awesome."

"I'm glad you like it," he rummaged through his box before pulling out the next present and handed it to Sirius, who seemed mildly disappointed because it was so small.

He opened the little box with much less reverence, extracting a small silver key on a black leather key pendant with a silver wolf on it: "Is this what I think this is?"

"How am I to know what you think?"

"How did you get it?" Sirius stared up at his godson in veneration, "How do you even know about it?"

"I used to dream about Hagrid bringing me to Privet Drive on that motor cycle," Harry shrugged, "I asked him about it and he gave it to me. It's in the back yard; Remus helped me to distract you every time you wanted to go out there."

"Cool," said Sirius, "You'll get the first ride, promise," he embraced the delicate boy, ignoring Voldemort's displeased look which clearly stated how much he thought of that idea.

Draco and Blaise were handed two identical book-shaped presents next, with white, self-inking snow grouse quill decorating them: "I thought since you decided to make fun of me for keeping a diary, you should both try it."

"I hoped you would get me this coke stuff again, it's all, you know?" Blaise whined as he unwrapped the shining new booklet.

"Maybe you should try writing in it," Harry suggested mischievously, "You never know what will come out of it."

Blaise eagerly started to scrawl something into his diary that definitely didn't reveal his innermost thoughts, whooping in joy as a package of sweets dropped into his lap: "You just made me the happiest man on the whole planet," he declared and rushed to hug the laughing boy.

Draco meanwhile had also written in his diary, receiving a bar of his favourite chocolate and now took over from Blaise and hugged the younger boy: "Thanks, Harry."

Harry slowly turned towards the Potion's Master: "Severus."

"Harry."

"Are you expecting a present?"

"You told me not to."

"Ah, but that was not the question."

"But it still is my answer, brat."

"Here," Harry pushed a parcel in his hands, "And don't call me brat."

Severus smirked triumphantly and unwrapped the present carefully, peering into the well-cushioned box: "Unicorn blood, Harry, haven't you learned anything?" he asked in shock, extracting a tiny vial with silver liquid.

"Yes, Professor," Harry replied crossly, "This blood is from one of the unicorns that was hurt and which I patched up. It was willingly given the same as the hair, which you'll also find in that box. I'm not stupid; I just thought you would appreciate it."

"Harry, thank you," Severus went to embrace the furious boy, "I shouldn't have said that."

"Damn well you shouldn't have," Harry murmured but allowed the arms to wrap around him.

"I really appreciate it," Severus told him earnestly, "With unicorn blood I could brew so many potions..."

Harry laughed and then handed the next presents to Rodolphus and Rabastan, two identical rolls of parchment with the Ministry crest on them.

"These are pardons," Rabastan stated in awe.

"I thought if you had it in black and white that it wasn't your fault what happened to the Longbottoms, you would forgive yourselves," Harry explained, "I'm sorry if you don't like it."

"No, Harry we do like it," Rodolphus stated, pulling him in for a short hug, "This is the most anyone ever has done for us."

"Thank you, Harry," Rabastan also hugged him.

"Oh," Sunny pulled out a yellow raincoat, revealing rain boots and a rain hat, "You think this is funny, don't you?"

"Extremely so," Harry smiled sweetly at him, "Merry Christmas, Sunny."

The vampire bared his fangs at him and hissed menacingly, but Harry only laughed and handed Narcissa an envelope.

The blonde woman read the card in it closely before squealing and pressing Harry to her chest: "This is great, Harry, thank you."

"Really? I wasn't sure about it..."

"I would like to mother and coddle you, Harry," she slowly let go, "Draco hasn't allowed me to coddle him since he was six." she glared at her son, who only rolled his eyes, before a dreamy look crossed her pretty face, thinking about how much fun they would have.

"I understand if you don't want to..."

"Oh, hogwash, dear," Narcissa kissed his forehead, "We'll have so much fun."

Harry smiled in relief and then gave Lucius his present: a small book filled with Muggle sayings.

"I thought it would make communicating with you easier," Harry admitted nervously.

Lucius smiled at him and embraced the delicate boy, holding him close for a moment: "I'll read it as soon as possible."

Harry slowly turned towards Tom, who still patiently sat in the armchair, and sitting down on the armrest handed him the last present. Tom opened it slowly and, peeking inside, his blood ran cold as he saw the small silver snake with emerald eyes that reminded him so much of Harry's own.

"So you made your decision...," he didn't dare to look at Harry's face and instead stared at his hands.

One of Harry's small fingers pressed against his lips, silencing him: "Put it on, Tom."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm absolutely sure. I love you, Tom Marvolo Riddle," Harry's lips timidly brushed across his cheek as Tom fastened the necklace around his neck, caressing the soft milky skin there.

"This makes giving you your presents much easier," he smiled slightly, settling Harry more comfortably in his lap and summoned two packages, handing Harry the letter-shaped one first.

Harry carefully unfolded the thick parchment, revealing what looked to be a second contract. It was his turn to have his blood run cold as he read what was written on the paper with the signatures of Tom, Percy and all the members of the Wizengamot under it. It was the cancellation of the contract, the dissolution of their marriage.

"Shhhh," Tom kissed him chastely on the lips, getting out of the armchair and got on one knee in front of it, presenting the small jewel box to Harry and taking one hand in his, "I'm not leaving you. I just realised that you deserve the wedding of your dreams and that includes the right to choose whether you want to marry me or not. I know that I'm far from perfect, but I love you with all my heart and I just hope that it will be enough. Harry James Potter, will you allow me to court you?"

He carefully took the thin silver ring out of its box, hesitantly slipping the band on Harry's ring finger. The Gryffindor stared at the two rings in wonder, watching as they melted together, changing the symbols on his wedding band, before he looked up into Tom's hopeful eyes.

"Why did you give me a ring?" he asked in confusion, staring at the silver band.

"I wanted to change the symbols on your ring," Tom said softly, caressing Harry's hand, "It's a promise ring of sorts. I will never give up on you and I will give you as much time and freedom as you need."

"What do those symbols mean?" Harry inquired.

"The old ones meant faithfulness, peace and obedience," Tom answered, "The new ones mean love, trust and honesty. They are the things I wish you to give me, once you are ready. Am I allowed to court you, Harry?"

"Okay," the black-haired boy blushed, but nodded shyly, sighing happily as Tom slipped back into the chair and gave him a sweet kiss on the lips, "Thank you!"

"I thank you, precious," Tom murmured in his ear, "Merry Christmas!"

"They're disgustingly sweet, aren't they?" Blaise commented loudly, breaking the two black-haired wizards from their intimate embrace and Harry blushed crimson: "Sorry."

"Just thought you might want to open our present as well," Draco offered, extracting a package from underneath the tree and handing it to Harry, "It's from all of the Slytherins."

Harry curiously unwrapped the squashy package, revealing black school robes with a Slytherin crest on the chest, a green and silver tie, a green and silver scarf and a small black leather book. He looked up in bemusement at the two Slytherins.

"We decided to make you an honorary Slytherin," Blaise informed him importantly, "Which means you will be given the password, you will always be welcome, you can participate in the house meetings and can practically do everything else a real Slytherin can do."

"You could even play on our Quidditch team if you choose to do so," Draco butted in, "The book is a rule book of how Slytherins are supposed to behave, you don't have to follow them- no-one really does- but you should know that they exist."

"Wow," Harry stared at the items in awe, "Are you sure about this?"

"Of course, Harry," they both exclaimed and soon found themselves with an armful of Harry: "Thank you!"

The small boy smiled at them before snuggling into Blaise, who carefully put his arms around the slim waist and tucked the unruly head under his chin, noting after a while that Harry's body relaxed against his and that the small puffs of air became more even. Harry slept through most of the distribution of presents, not even waking when Draco let out a loud whoop of joy at one of his presents.

"Maybe we should put him to bed," Remus suggested as all the presents were either opened or put aside for Harry to open later.

"Of course, the poor dear must be awfully exhausted, all this excitement!" Narcissa agreed as well, "They can stay here, can't they, honey?," she asked her husband, who nodded in agreement, "Or do you think it would upset him to wake in an unfamiliar room?"

The six men exchanged questioning looks: "Well, he doesn't have any bad memories connected to this manor, right?" said Sirius finally, "He said he liked it here. I think he should be fine."

The others nodded in agreement and Tom carefully lifted Harry from Blaise's lap and carried the small boy with ease to the west wing, waiting for Lucius to open the door.

"You know, I don't have a problem having Harry in my arms all night, but I would prefer a bed, Lucius," he commented idly when the blond made no move to open the door.

"I can't open the door," Lucius shrugged as helplessly as only a Malfoy can while looking like he had everything under control, "I thought it would open for Harry to pass, but that obviously isn't the case... I can give him another room, though."

"I don't want another room," Harry mumbled sleepily, "I like those rooms."

"Can you open them, sweetie?" the Dark Lord asked, "Because we can't."

"Just use the stupid handle," he muttered, displeased that his slumber had been interrupted.

As if to taunt them, when Lucius cautiously tried the handle again the door swung open soundlessly, revealing the already well-lit corridor: "How did that work?"

"Wandless magic," Tom answered quietly, who was the only one who had noticed the small ray of silver that Harry shot towards the door, "Good night, everyone."

Narcissa lightly kissed Harry's unruly hair because he refused to lift his head from Tom's shoulder. Lucius wished them both a good night, and then left with his wife, since Tom knew where his rooms were. Blaise and Draco also left them, after they had pointed Harry's room out to the Dark Lord and everyone else had already found their quarters. Tom silently opened the door to Harry's bedroom, finding that one of the house-elves had already started a fire and pulled back the covers.

"Tom?"

"Hmmm?" he was leaning awkwardly over Harry's form, since the delicate boy refused to let go.

"Can you stay with me?" he whispered in a pleading voice, sighing with relief when he felt Tom nod against his shoulder and let go.

Tom slipped off his shoes and socks and put his robes over a chair, before transfiguring his clothes into a pair of pyjamas. "Do you want me to change your clothes as well?"

Harry's hands clenched into the bedspread, but he nodded and soon after he was in his pyjamas, too, crawling under the thick blanket, while Tom slid in on the other side, careful not to invade Harry's private space. Harry would come to him when he was ready. He could feel the green eyes observing his every movement, but he refrained from looking over, knowing that this would embarrass Harry and make him even more nervous. Since the night he had spent with Black and Harry in one bed, the green-eyed boy had avoided letting anyone this near to him. Suddenly he felt the bed dip where Harry lay and felt the small body move closer till he lay next to him, his head once again on Tom's shoulder. Seemingly, this position made him even more nervous and Tom noticed how the frail body tensed up with every movement of his chest, with every breath of air that brushed against his forehead.

/Don't do this, Harry/, he chastised softly/you're tormenting yourself. Would you rather I slept on the sofa/

/No/, Harry's voice shook slightly/you always made me feel safe, I want to feel safe again.../

/I can understand that, kitten/, he murmured gently/But I don't want you to torture yourself, you're trembling, Harry. You're not ready yet./

Harry shifted, but instead of shifting away from him he slowly crawled onto his chest, tightening his arms around Tom's upper body. /Don't send me away./

/Do you feel safe like this?/, Harry nodded and let out a long breath when Tom slowly put his arms around him/Then I'm honoured to be your mattress./

/You must tell me when I get too heavy,/ Harry said earnestly and Tom let out a low chuckle that reverberated through Harry's body. /I doubt that will happen, featherweight./

Harry grumbled something unintelligible and then snuggled closer to Tom's chest: "Thank you, for my present I mean."

"You deserve it, Harry, and everything else you wish for."

"I already have everything, Tom," Harry replied seriously.

"Really? Is there nothing you want to have? Even if it's just a new pullover?"

"I have lots of people who love me and I'm beginning to believe them," Harry explained, "And those people are all happy, so I'm happy, too."

"You're just remarkable," Tom chuckled, running his hands through Harry's wild locks, "So does that mean in order to make you happy I have to make everyone else around you happy?"

"Mhm," Harry nodded, "But mostly you just have to make yourself happy..."

"I am happy," Tom stated, "I have you, little one. I couldn't be happier if the whole world lay at my feet. But can you explain something to me?"

"That depends," Harry murmured, "What's the question?"

"It's about you and Snuffles. I don't understand your relationship. You seem awfully close."

Harry tensed and pressed closer to Tom's chest, trying to make himself invisible: "Are you angry?," he sniffled, "I didn't mean to hurt either of you. I thought it was okay for you."

"**I** hurt you," Tom clarified, "It was not your fault and I didn't mean it like that, Harry. I'm glad you have him, I'm just trying to understand it."

"I never wanted him to find out about the Dursleys," Harry finally admitted, "I didn't want anyone to know, but I didn't tell him for a different reason. I thought all of you would hate me and think I'm disgusting and leave me alone, but I never thought that about Snuffles. I trust him. I trust him more than anyone else. And I know him, I knew that when I told him he would blame himself because he wasn't there to prevent it. He was always there, Tom, he is my family, he was my reason to live, he still is. I would have given up much sooner without him, I need him. That's why I wanted you to protect him. He deserved it, he deserves to be happy, and I didn't want to destroy that for him. Remus loves me because I'm his cub, but Snuffles loves me without having to and he loves me unconditionally. I was never loved like that, Tom, not that I can remember. I'm his son in all but blood, Tom. I need him and I need you. And Snuffles needs me just as he needs Remus."

"Then I will make sure that none of us gets hurt," Tom said after a while and Harry kissed him in thanks before settling back down once more. "Just one more question, okay? Would you like to go on a date with me?"

"I'd love to," Harry smiled happily and they both fell asleep soon after.

* * *

**Do I also get a late Christmas present? Pretty please?**


	58. Back to School

**Disclaimer: I thought we had established this already? Oh well, none of the characters belong to me... Are you happy now?**

**Author's Note: Hallo! Here's the next chapter for you (you wouldn't have guessed, would you?) and also a bit of long-long-long-awaited revenge. I'm sorry I haven't answered your reviews, yet, maybe I'll do it later, but I don't feel like writing anything in English right now, so don't be angry if I don't reply until tomorrow... **

**A big thank you to Leianora for betaing this for me!**

**

* * *

**

**57. BACK TO SCHOOL**

"I am glad to see you again, Mr. Potter," Headmistress McGonagall sent him a tight little smile, "And you also brought back two of my teachers. I must admit the substitute professors were a bit overcharged. Potion's Mistress Sterling couldn't believe that someone could be not as fascinated by bubbling cauldrons as she undoubtedly is and four exploded potions, two full-restorations of the potion's class-room and the adjoining corridor and six students in the infirmary later she took her leave. Poppy will surely be pleased to have you back, Severus."

Severus grumbled something before he left McGonagall's office.

"The Defence teacher was very popular, though I think that could have to do with the students only seldom frequenting his class," the stern witch continued, "I don't think his redundancy will change his daily routine too drastically."

"Seems I missed a lot," Harry stated cheerfully, not letting go of Tom's hand.

"I'm sure you had to make your own experiences," the witch answered, "Your comrades from Gryffindor would be very pleased if you chose to stay in the tower again, though they are very understanding if you don't want to yet. In this case Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Zabini offered to share their room with you. I'm afraid since you're no longer married it would be inappropriate for you to stay with Professor Riddle."

"That's okay," Harry muttered, "but I'd rather stay with Blaise and Draco."

"Your things will be brought down to the dungeons," McGonagall nodded, standing up, "If you have any questions or need help with something, you know where my office is. And now we should perhaps go down for dinner."

"Do they know...?" Harry shifted uncomfortably and Tom squeezed his hand lightly.

"I'm afraid news travel fast, especially in a school like Hogwarts," the Headmistress replied compassionately, "However, I think this will give you more space, Mr. Potter, since no-one will pester you about what exactly happened."

/She's quite naive, isn't she?/ Tom whispered in Harry's ear, who only rolled his eyes before dragging him out of the room.

It was one week after the Christmas vacation had ended, of course, everyone would know about what they did to him, after all there had been countless articles more or less accurate, but somehow his rape was always the central focus. At least that was what Tom and the others had told him.

/Don't worry so much,/ Tom gently pulled him close as they passed a corridor with a lot of doors/You'll get wrinkles./

/They won't hate me, right?/ Harry looked up at him with big, pleading green eyes.

/No-one that matters will hate you and the others I will take care of,/ he gulped as Harry stared at him accusingly/...or maybe I won't./

/No, you most definitely won't,/ Harry hissed back before once again smiling at him/But thanks anyway./

They entered the Great Hall through the teacher's entrance and the assembled students immediately lapsed into silence as they caught sight of the Golden Boy entering after the new Headmistress and the returned Defence Professor.

"Yes, Mr. Potter chose to return, now continue eating," she snapped, resulting in the students trying to stare more inconspicuously and shovel the food into their mouths, "Take a seat, Mr. Potter."

/You will be fine, precious,/ Tom gently kissed his forehead/Draco and Blaise are waiting for you./

Harry nodded and determinedly walked to the Slytherin table, not looking left nor right, and slipped into the seat they had kept for him.

"We're glad you're back, Harry," Pansy greeted him, "It was pretty boring without you."

"I heard something else," Harry laughed and started on his rice, "I heard you had an awful lot of free time."

"The teacher was a joke," Ted answered, "A bit like Lockheart, only that he not even pretended to know anything about Defence."

"So, you'll stay with us, Harry?" Blaise asked and Harry nodded: "If I'm allowed to..."

"Of course," Draco smiled at him, "We will even help you sneak out if you want to meet a certain someone..."

"Tom is the heir of Slytherin, he can easily visit me," Harry shrugged, "He said he would."

"Of course I will," Tom's dark voice said from behind them, "but right now I need to clean up my classroom. I heard it has been infested by so-called works of arts. Will you be okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"You know how to find me," Tom kissed him lovingly, "You two take care of him, understood?"

"We are intending to," Blaise agreed, pulling himself up to his full height as if to say that no-one would get past him.

Tom nodded, satisfied, before leaving the Great Hall for his classroom, where he found it decorated with what seemed like hundreds of pictures, all showing hearts or flowers or something that with a lot of imagination could be interpreted as teddy-bears. All in all very unbecoming of a Dark Lord and even though he had lost his status as a showpiece-Dark Lord he still had standards that clearly spoke against such decoration anywhere near him.

"Draco," Harry urgently tugged the blond's sleeve so that he would lean down a little, "Can you send them ahead, please, I don't like to be so crowded, please?"

They had stood up as a whole from the Slytherin table, all the Sixth years, and Harry was sure that some off the prefects and the head boy had also wanted to join them, but had held back and now followed them from a distance. It was really unnerving Harry, since he didn't know them too well and Pansy was walking to close for his liking.

"Sure," Draco straightened again, "Leave us alone, guys, Blaise and I will take care of Harry. You can make sure the way is safe."

Immediately the other students scattered and Harry was mildly impressed with how much control Draco held over them or perhaps how disciplined the Slytherins were. Such a behaviour was unthinkable in Gryffindor and the only way to get someone to leave you alone was to threaten them or to lock yourself in your room.

"Better?"

"Yes, thanks, Draco," the black-haired boy smiled gratefully up at him, "there were just too many people."

"So, tell us what did you do during the holidays?" Blaise asked curiously as they slowly followed the others.

Harry beamed up at them: "Snuffles and Remus got married, only at the registry office because they want to wait till Remus has settled into his new job and because they didn't want to overcharge me, but they adopted me!" he laughed happily, bouncing a little at the next few steps, "They're legally my guardians, now!"

"That sounds great," Blaise pulled him into a one-armed hug, "And how are things with everyone's favourite Dark Lord, anymore blunders?"

"No, surprisingly enough not," Harry chuckled in amusement, "He took me out a couple of times. Well, twice, because I panicked the second time and afterwards Snuffles wouldn't allow me to go out anymore, but he was really nice and he cooked for me and brought me flowers and chocolate... I feel really girly," Draco laughed at this and ruffled his hair: "But you are our favourite girl, Harriet."

"You," Harry shook his fist at him, "I'm barely back two hours and you're already teasing me again."

"Well, I have to make up for all the really witty comments I came up during your absence," Draco stated haughtily, "At least once a day, I would think to myself: If Harry was here now I could have said this or that. I considered writing it down, but then again my brain is a never-ending source of such truly fabulous ideas that I decided against it..."

"Can you imagine how much I suffered, Harry?" Blaise complained and Harry nodded compassionately.

"Hey," Draco shouted indignantly, "you should be honoured that I even allow you in my presence."

They had reached the Slytherin common room and Blaise whispered the password, making the door slide open, revealing a pleasantly empty common room, since the others had obviously decided to give Harry some space: "Welcome to Slytherin, Harry, let me show you around."

"I was here before, Blaise," Harry burst his bubble, "I know my way around. And right now I'm too tired to pretend I don't."

"Well then, off to bed with you," Draco decided to stop his sulking and gently pushed Harry towards their room, "And don't even think about putting Silencing Spells around your bed."

Harry grumbled displeasedly, but gathered his new pyjama, courtesy of Narcissa, and his tooth brush and trudged over to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

"Do you think he will be absolutely okay again?" Blaise asked as the two Slytherins also changed into their pyjamas.

"I doubt he ever really was" Draco muttered after a while, "but I think Tom is good for him, maybe he can mend him."

"Dark Lords are not said to be the best at mending things," Blaise replied, "He hurt him far worse than any of us ever did."

"He just will have to learn to fix Harry," Draco stated coldly, "because otherwise... I will have to serve detention," Harry had re-entered the room, looking a bit strangely at them, but not commenting as he slipped into his huge four-poster bed with Slytherin green hangings and soft silver pillows: "Good night, you two."

"Good night, Harry," Blaise replied, "Sleep tight."

"Good night, Harriet."

"Shut up, Draco," Harry mumbled sleepily, snuggling into the warm covers, warding off the chill of the dungeons.

Headmistress McGonagall held a tight reign over the school and its occupants, students as well as teachers. No-one could complain about being treated unfairly, no-one could call someone her teacher's pet and no-one could contend to be punished undeservedly- of course they all did, but all in all the Transfiguration professor was a good Headmistress and most everyone agreed on that view. Harry thought it was kind of funny that Tom listened to her rules at least visibly more than he ever had to Dumbledore, though she was not nearly as magically powerful as the Dark Lord. Sure they argued, but mostly they stayed civil and once Tom had agreed to something he at least made sure not to be busted while breaking the new rule.

She restricted Harry's visits to his quarters to the weekend and totally forbid him to stay the night, she only gave Harry five minutes at each meal that he could sit at the teacher's table, she made Harry stay on school grounds unless it was a Hogsmead weekend and though she couldn't forbid Tom to visit Harry in the Slytherin dungeons without the agreement of Severus, who curiously enough seemed to become deaf when ever she mentioned that subject, she only granted him access to the common room and not to the dormitories and that only in the afternoon until curfew.

So now, due to the new rules, Tom always waited in front of the common room in the morning, sometimes joined by Severus or the Lestrange brothers. Today, it was only Tom though and he was unimaginably bored and passed his time by cursing the new rules, debating whether he should risk to go inside, but then deciding against it when he felt the tingle of wards around the entrance, undoubtedly courtesy of the new Headmistress.

"Tom," Harry happily jumped into his arms, shyly pressing a kiss to his lips, "have you been waiting long?"

"Longer than usual, what were you doing?" Tom drawled, slowly putting Harry back on his feet and slipping one arm around the slim waist.

"I couldn't find my Defence homework," Harry shrugged embarrassedly, "I still haven't found it, I guess you have to give me detention..."

"As much as I like that idea, I took it with me when I left yesterday," Tom smiled, "It seems you were already too tired to hear me."

"Oops," Harry chuckled nervously, "Sorry."

Tom only laughed and pulled Harry a little closer, shifting Harry's book bag that hang between them to his own shoulder, ignoring Harry's weak protests that he could carry his things himself, which caused Harry to pout and lapse into an accusing silence.

"Why won't you allow me to take care of you, sweetie?" he asked when Harry still wouldn't speak to him as they reached the Great Hall.

"I don't want to be dependent of you," the green-eyed boy replied.

"You're not dependent, precious," Tom kissed him very gently, "I know very well that you can carry your own book bag and that you don't need me to walk you here, but I thought you liked my attention. I thought you liked it that I'm taking care of you."

"Of course, I like it, but I don't like that I need it," Harry pleaded with him to understand, "I can't walk past closed doors without panicking, I can't help but freak out whenever I see Ron, I'm so scared whenever I'm alone. At least let me do the things I can do, let me do things on my own, please."

"I didn't know it meant so much to you, little one," he handed the book bag back, receiving a grateful smile, "I thought that you merely tried to not burden me or something. And you're no burden at all, Harry, I like to do things for you."

"I know," Harry answered honestly, "but right now I need to help myself."

"Okay," he kissed Harry once again, wrapped his own hand around Harry's much smaller one and entered the Great Hall, leading them up to the teacher's table, letting Harry greet everyone, before slipping in his lap, like he did every morning with his back towards the students, seeking out Tom's comfort and the positive feelings he received from him.

The flapping of thousands of wings interrupted Harry's almost meditative state and made him crane his neck, though he didn't really expect anyone to write. Well, maybe Snuffles and Remus or perhaps Neville, but the barn owl that landed in front of him, or rather on the table behind him, was not one he recognised and had the tired and slightly stressed look of a Ministry owl. Her feathers were slightly ruffled, most likely from the storm that raged outside.

"Who is it from?," Tom asked worriedly when he saw all the colour drain from Harry's face.

"My aunt," Harry's hands shook even more than his voice as he unfolded the letter, written in his aunt's edged handwriting.

_You ungrateful little bitch, we don't care if you are adopted or killed or near death, we don't care. You were a nuisance left by your egoistic parents, who **of course** couldn't be bothered to bring up their spawn. You contaminate everyone around you with your disease and your abnormalities. You don't deserve to live. We were always good to you, we gave you what you deserved, but it just was no use with you. Your a freak, a worthless little freak, you don't deserve to breathe the same air as such hard-working and honest and **normal** people like us. _

_You bring ill luck, we never wish to see you again or to hear from you, you have done enough to us. Vernon lost thousands of jobs because of you, we would be so rich by now if it wasn't for your abnormal presence and the whole house still reeks of your disgusting stench. _

_I knew what he was doing, slut, I encouraged him and I so enjoyed to see you limp around the next day, I should have listened to him and given you to a whorehouse, since that's obviously where you belong and where you will end up anyway. You just wait. Do you really think, anyone can bear your presence? Not even your lot could do that. You're vile and disgusting, even more so than my damned sister._

_She thought she was **oh-so-noble** and **sweet** telling us stories about her new **fabulous** life. The arrogant bitch. And then how she showed of her **great, rich, good-looking** husband as if she deserved to be treated like royalty. She was just as spoilt as you are, she never gave a damn about the rest of her family. I'm glad she's dead, may she rot in hell. _

_You can greet her, once you finally relieved this world of yourself, but until then I hope you have a shit life in the scum you crawled out of and don't ever think about coming back._

_The Dursley family_

Tom only felt the small body slip under the table before a muffled, but nonetheless heart-wrenching sob, broke the chatter all around him and such a huge wave of sadness and despair hit him in the chest that he would have stumbled back, if he hadn't been seated, and everyone around him also stopped whatever they were doing, not being able to explain were it came from. The small innocent looking paper wafted to the floor.

/Harry, love, talk to me,/ he also crouched down under the table, taking the unresisting pile of crying Harry into his arms/What did she write? Please talk to me./

But Harry obviously couldn't answer, wave after wave of emotional pain pouring out of his soul, settling into everyone in the Great Hall. Several students had started to cry and their friends were too confused themselves to comfort them, soon breaking into tears as well. Hagrid was the first of the teachers who gave in, followed by the diminutive Charms teacher and Professor Sprout. Tom himself was fighting tears and as he looked over his shoulder he could see Severus' hand clenching around the armrest. He carefully reached for the letter not relinquishing his hold on Harry, on the contrary even pulling him closer.

/This is not true, Harry,/ he gently lifted the trembling boy, settling his legs comfortably around his own waist and putting the thin arms around his neck, momentarily relieved when Harry tightened his hold/She has no idea who you are or how much she owes you. You don't deserve to die or to having been forced to live with them. She's jealous because you and your mother are so high above her. She was the bravest woman I ever met and she loved you dearly, just as did your father. And they were right to love you. I can't imagine a day without you, without your smile and your lovely voice. Don't believe a word she said, Harry, you are loved. I love you, Harry, and I will for the rest of my life. Don't you think I know you better than she does? Don't you think Snuffles knows you better. She locked you in a cupboard and only talked to you to insult or degrade you, she is the one that doesn't deserve to live. I can show you more than ten people who care about you straightaway/, the onflood of emotions had stopped, but Tom was sure that Harry had only pulled them back into himself, so as not to hurt anyone, but that at least meant that he had regained some control/Kitten, don't let her ruin your life. It's your life now, you don't have to listen to her or your uncle anymore. You're an amazing person, Harry. Don't let anyone tell you differently. Please, Harry, say something./

/Why does she hate me so much?/ Harry eyes were darker than usual, the usual vibrant colour having changed to a duller green/Why do they hate me?/

/Because people fear what they don't understand, everything that is foreign to them,/ Tom cautiously sat back down in his chair, cradling Harry's wet face between his hands/And as they never bothered to get to know you and therefore missed the beautiful soul we had the fortune to meet, they instead tried to mask their fear with hatred./

/I don't want them to hate me, Tom,/ Harry pleaded and Tom tenderly wiped away the tears/They're not important, Harry. You are. And now you have a new and much better family. Aren't we better than them?/

"Of course, you are," Harry whispered and smiled sadly, "You are much better."

"I don't think he needs anyone to boost his ego, Harry," Severus spoke up from beside him and Harry chuckled a little, "But I'm sure I agree with what Tom undoubtedly said to you. Evans was not arrogant and neither are you and you didn't deserve anything they threw at you, Harry."

"Yes, that about sums up, what I said," Tom dropped Harry into the Potion's Master's lap, "And now, if you will excuse me, I have to kill two people."

"No," Harry exclaimed in panic, "you can't kill them."

"They have hurt you for the last time, Harry," Tom tried to free his arm from Harry's tight grasp, "I said I would kill them if they hurt you again and I totally intend to make good of that promise."

"They didn't hurt me, I'm fine really, please, Tom," Harry attempted to drag him back down.

"Really, Harry? Say it again and I will accept your answer," Tom let all the hurt he felt shine through his eyes and he could see Harry shiver as he received that emotion, "but you should really consider it, Harry. Are they worth it that you start lying again? Do you really want this life again? I thought you trusted me..."

Harry fidgeted uncomfortably: "They did hurt me, they hurt me badly," he finally whispered and Tom pulled him into a hug, "And I trust you, Tom, but... I don't want to lose you, I don't want you to go to Azkaban, I don't want you to be a murderer..."

"I am a Dark Lord, Harry, I always will be. I already am a murderer and I can't change that. Let me kill someone who really deserves it for a change," Tom murmured, "I won't let them get away with this."

"And what am I supposed to do without you?," Harry whimpered, shrinking into himself, "I read the new contract, do you expect me to visit you in Azkaban?"

"No, Harry, I'm sorry," the red-eyed man relented, "I won't get caught and I won't leave you- there will be no evidence."

"Do you think they need evidence, Tom?" Harry hissed, "They didn't need evidence to ship off Snuffles or Rabastan or Rodolphus or Serafin. They certainly don't need it to convict you..."

"I won't let them get away with this, they deserve to die and they deserve to at least feel a part of the pain they inflicted on you," Tom insisted, "I will do anything for you, but, please, don't make me break this promise."

"You also promised not to kill anyone," the teary-eyed boy pleaded, "I'd rather you kept that promise."

"Okay, Harry, compromise," he tenderly pulled the smaller wizard closer, "**I** won't kill them, I will inform the Ministry and see to it that they are convicted for their crimes."

"They will be so afraid, Tom," Harry whispered, "Can't you inform the Muggle authorities? They are Muggles, Tom, they don't understand our world."

"That's only because they never bothered to learn about our world, I have no sympathy for them," Tom didn't cave in to Harry, not this time, "They have hurt a magical child, they knew with whom they were messing with, it's perfectly legal to convict them in our world. That's my final word, Harry, either you accept the compromise or I kill them my way."

"Please, don't kill them," the green-eyed boy whispered and Tom nodded before once again pushing Harry into Severus lap, who closed his long, thin arms around the small Animagus, and then left the Great Hall.

"I'm taking the day off," Severus declared, also standing up, the light body safely in his arms, "and I guess by now it's obvious that the Tom won't be teaching today, either," McGonagall nodded, one of her thin hands pressed to her bosom, still in shock over the raw emotion that had pushed into her heart minutes ago, "Come on, Harry, you can stay in my rooms. I really don't know what he's thinking, leaving you in such a state..."

Tom meanwhile was indeed thinking or at least talking, which normally requires thinking, because he was describing in detail what he would like to do to the two Muggles standing in front of him. Yes, the old saying was rather true, that words sometimes hurt more than the Cruciatus. He had practically flown past the Apparation wards, before apparating to the Grunnings complex, overcoming his disgust and apparating both himself and the fat Muggle back to Privet Drive, number 4, where the horse-like Muggle woman was busy doing a show of watering the flowers while in reality spying on Mrs. Number 6, and shove them both into the kitchen, warding the room against prying eyes and keen ears.

The two Muggles had at first spluttered incoherently, babbling some nonsense like that they didn't know a Harry Potter, that this was trespassing, that they would tell the police, but when he told them his name, it quite efficiently shut them up. Despite their vehement denial that Harry hadn't saved them all, they knew pretty much who he was and of what he was capable and they were very helpful if he had still wanted to kill Harry. Finally he shut them up after they had practically confessed everything they did to Harry and then the fun part (at least for him) began.

He wasn't a Dark Lord for nothing and since he had found out about the abuse Harry had had to suffer and in the many weeks they had spent with Harry's godfather and his wolf, he had come up with many ideas to make their last minutes, hours, seem like an eternity in hell. And it wasn't like he hadn't had any help because Lupin and Black sure as hell were quite inventive like that and though neither Rudolphus nor Rabastan were much into all that torturing people thing they offered a few suggestions themselves and Severus, as it turned out, was not only a Master in Potions but also in mind play and came up with ideas far more vicious than any of the others.

And now he happily relayed the knowledge he had gained in those hours to the two monsters in front of him, letting their whimpers encourage him to come up with even more ways to kill them. He had promised not to finish them off, yes, and he wasn't even using his wand to make them wet their clothes with sweat and urine and he had to admit, at least to himself, that justice was as sweet as revenge could be. It was rather considerate of him that he wanted to prepare them for their fates, wasn't it? No-one in the Wizarding World would take kindly to the abuse of their Saviour, no-one.

Three glasses of water, eight hysterical outbursts and several cleaning spells later he decided that it got rather boring after a while and so he notified the Ministry. Tom considered shortly to handcuff them, but then a really fabulous idea came to his mind and with a swish of his wand, a few murmured words on his part and frightened squeaks and whimpers on their part he levitated them out of the kitchen, carefully banging them against both the door frame and the pristine walls, tinting them an unpleasant shade of yellow, and out in the hallway.

Vernon's whimpers (or grunts) grew louder as he caught sight of the prison they had created for their nephew and Tom smirked pleasedly before opening the small door by hand, in doing so bringing Petunia in eyeshot of the cupboard and causing her to start a pathetic attempt to plea her way out of the grave she had dug herself.

The Dark Lord's grin widened (he couldn't remember ever having enjoyed torturing someone so much- and without his wand no less!) and with a bit of pushing and squeezing he finally fitted the two Muggles in there, though he had the nice thought that breathing could be a bit complicated for them. He locked the cupboard and wrote a flashy note on the door for the Ministry, saying that the culprits could be found in there and then went back to the kitchen, fixed himself a coffee and sipped it while storing his memories of their confession in his pensieve.

In the end it was well past six, when he unhurriedly stood up, protected his pensieve with a strong, but uncomplicated spell and pinned a second note, explaining the contents of the memories, before apparating back to Hogsmead, fully satisfied with this turn of events.

* * *

**Review?**


	59. Presents

**Disclaimer: All those wonderful characters sadly enough don't belong to me and unfortunately I don't make money with this either.**

**Author's Note: Hello, my lovely readers and reviewers... I hope you survived the long wait and that you are all okay and that Kyrill left you unscathched... This chapter contains a bit of a LEMON, so you have been warned and if you don't want to read something like this, then don't. Enjoy!**

**And as always a huge thank you to Leianora for betaing this for me. Thank you!****

* * *

**

58. PRESENTS

The Dursleys' trial was rather uneventful and ended with both of them getting a life-long sentence in Azkaban in the high security tract, so that they now could keep Ginny and Hermione company. All four of them got hate-mail on a daily basis and their human guard made sure to deliver each and every letter and to read it out to them. This guard was Avery, who had a strange resistance against Dementors, which he claimed was due to him eating so many onions (suffice to say, his smell wasn't all that agreeable). He had offered to take the job, in order to live out the cruel fantasies he undoubtedly possessed. Harry and Avery had never really got along and he was one of the few Death Eaters that was still absolutely and entirely loyal to the Dark Lord himself, but he nonetheless made sure to let his four charges suffer to the best of his abilities.

Harry had been mildly irritated with Tom when the red-eyed man had returned with a big smile on his face while he had spent almost the whole day crying, but after Tom had taken him in his arms and rocked him and told him how much he loved him, his anger slowly abated and was exchanged with relief because Tom had returned to him.

The Headmistress wasn't impressed with Tom's actions because he had missed a whole day of classes and caused her Potion's Master and Harry to also miss them. In her opinion Harry was far enough behind as it was. So she loaded Tom with work, occupying him for the next two weeks with daily new ideas, like re-warding all the common rooms, ridding the Forbidden Forest of blood-sucking amphibians or her personal favourite rearranging the Restricted Section and looking for new books. And of course, she made sure that Tom had to supervise three-quarters of the assigned detentions.

Harry was a whole different matter. The petite boy still shied away from strangers or practically everyone but his friends, including her. She realised it was cruel to deprive him of the contact he needed so much, however she also wanted him to study and retain his good marks and she knew that the green-eyed boy himself wanted nothing more than to get back to normal again. That wasn't going to be a reality anytime soon. The small Gryffindor never went anywhere without someone he trusted by his side. Whenever he caught sight of the only Weasley left in Hogwarts he totally panicked.

That had caused some trouble at the first Quidditch practice as Ron was still the keeper and had tried to talk to Harry. If it hadn't been for Rabastan, who had chosen to accompany him, Harry would have hurt himself much worse than on Christmas Eve in Malfoy Manor and would most likely have had another breakdown. The tall man had sent the youngest male Weasley to her and Ron willingly left the Quidditch team after that, although Harry had tried to tell him that he was okay. But Ron insisted that Quidditch was far more important for Harry than for him.

McGonagall had agreed immediately, awarding fifty points to Ron, who after a lot of consideration allowed Draco to dye his hair chocolate brown to help Harry, which actually worked rather well, though Harry was still glad that Blaise and Draco were almost always around as well.

However, not even she could deny that she was glad that Ron chose to leave on his own because she had a soft spot for Harry, ever since the little boy had been sorted into her house and made it onto the Quidditch team. That affection had only strengthened over the years. It was this that brought her into her office, which had magically grown larger since she had claimed it as the Headmistress' office. It was still situated near the Transfiguration's classroom. Harry was nervously sitting across from her, this time without any of his bodyguards, though she was sure that Malfoy and Zabini were patiently waiting for him to come out again.

"What can I do for you, Mister Potter?" she leaned back into her not very comfortable chair, thinking once again that a new one was in order.

"I wanted to ask you to give Tom and me tomorrow off, Professor," Harry fidgeted pitifully, obviously not at all comfortable where he was.

Even now, he was wincing as her hand brushed across the papers, making a whispering noise.

"And why would I allow that? I thought I made it quite clear that neither of you is to miss anymore classes," she pressed her mouth into a thin line, willing herself to ignore Harry's discomfort.

"Tomorrow is his birthday, Professor McGonagall," Harry pleaded, suddenly full of his old fire. "I want to give him his present; I don't think he ever got one, please? Rodolphus and Rabastan offered to take over his classes- they are really good with Defence Against the Dark Arts. And I have top grades in every class, I asked Draco and Blaise to take notes for me, I won't lag behind and I'll hand in all my homework today..."

"I really don't think his birthday is a good enough reason for you to get the day off, Mr. Potter," she argued.

She was, however mildly impressed with Harry's arguments: "You may visit him in the afternoon and give him his present then or in the morning at the breakfast table." Harry blushed crimson at this suggestion. "That's all you'll get from me."

"Please, Professor, the present is rather personal and if I don't give him his present until the afternoon, he'll think I forgot his birthday," Harry begged, kneading his hands. "I don't want him to be angry at me."

"I doubt the consequences will be as dire as you seem to imagine them to be." she assured him, but Harry wildly shook his head, looking up with big green eyes. "I can understand that you've been through a lot and that Mr. Riddle is very important to you, but I established these regulations for your own protection and I don't think disregarding them will do you any good."

"Professor, you sound just like Dumbledore." Harry said very quietly, "Everything he did was supposed to be 'for my own good'. Please, don't start that again. Can't you trust me to know what is good for me?"

"You're still a child, Mr. Potter." the Headmistress said, speaking in a much more friendly voice. "I can understand that you don't like to be patronised, but I just can't allow one of my students to be molested or confined in the development of his personality by anyone let alone a teacher. Professor Riddle is your guardian and although I don't doubt your feelings for each other, he is the older one and he should know better than to ask you to break the rules."

"He didn't instigate anything." Harry protested, "It's supposed to be a surprise, I don't even think he knows that I know his birthday. He doesn't pressure me, Professor; he gives me more freedom than I think I can cope with sometimes. I even have written permission from," Harry took a very deep breath, "S-Sirius. You know how much he loves me, Professor; none of my friends will allow me to get hurt, least of all Tom. Please, it's really important to me," he handed the short letter over to the Headmistress, who read it with a furrowed brow and a sharp eye, her cat-nose catching the slight scent of dog that emanated from the paper.

"Mr. Riddle's birthday is on the 29th February?" the stern witch sighed.

"Yes, poor one, isn't he?" Harry chuckled lightly and she gave him a small smile: "I will give you the day off, but I expect you to be present at both lunch and dinner and after dinner you will return to your own dormitory. You will do all of your homework and you will not leave the castle grounds, am I clear, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, perfectly", Harry beamed at her and stood up, already half-way to the door, "Thank you, Professor."

"Don't let me regret it, Mr. Potter."

Harry nodded, leaving her alone to ponder her thoughts. This boy had managed to wrap her around his thin finger. He was like Lily in that aspect.

"Did it work?" Draco asked as soon as Harry had closed the door behind him; Harry's grin was enough of an answer. "So tell us, what exactly are you planning?"

"That's personal," Harry said curtly, "I won't tell you."

"You are not planning to have sex with him, are you?" Blaise asked as they made their way outside to enjoy the first rays of sunshine.

"Not everything personal has to do with sex, Blaise," Harry scowled at the Italian boy, "and just because **you** don't think about anything else, doesn't mean it's the only thing on my mind."

"Guilty as charged," Blaise laughed and slung an arm around Harry's slightly bony shoulders, "but can you really blame me for enjoying my absolutely fantastic body?"

"You've spent too much time around Draco," Harry murmured and while Blaise laughed the blond playfully punched his shoulder: "You do know that we are the three best-looking guys in this whole school, don't you? It's only normal that we at least are not too blind to realise that... and don't you dare to protest!"

Harry for once let the matter rest and instead dragged the two older boys over to his favourite tree, making them sit down on the soft, fresh grass.

"What if I was planning to have sex with him?" Harry nervously asked after a while.

"Well, are you?" Blaise asked, clapping one hand over Draco's mouth.

"I... yes" Harry ducked his head, blushing with embarrassment.

Draco shrugged Blaise's hand off, briefly glaring at him, before suddenly putting his hand lightly in Harry's lap, pressing down only a little. Harry jerked back, letting out a horrified scream, before curling into a tight ball.

"Whatever did you do that for?" Blaise whispered furiously, so as not to frighten their smaller friend even more.

"He's not ready yet!" Draco hissed back. "What does he think he's doing?"

"You couldn't have told him that without scaring him to death?!" Blaise retorted with a wary look to the trembling boy.

"You know him. The day he listens to us, will be the day I'm dyeing my hair pink or worse yet Weasley-red", the blond argued, cautiously approaching the petrified boy, who had at least calmed enough to allow them near him, "Hey, little hero," it was his special nickname for Harry when the smaller wizard was distressed, and Draco was the only one allowed to call him that, "I'm sorry about that. It didn't mean anything, don't worry. You're safe. Do you want to hit me? I think I might deserve it..."

"Why did you do it?" Harry nervously peeked out from under his bangs. "What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing, shh, calm down first, then I'll explain it to you", Draco gently started to rock him as Blaise sat down on the other side, enclosing the green-eyed Gryffindor between their bodies: "Draco is an idiot, you did nothing wrong."

"I'm okay." Harry resolutely wiped away his tears and looked up at Draco. "Now, tell me why you thought it necessary to place your hand **there**."

"I wanted to show you that you're not ready yet, Harry," Draco said carefully. "How do you expect to have sex when you can't even stand to be touched anywhere near there?"

"You just startled me..."

"Nonsense, Harry!" Draco admonished him, "You would have reacted much the same if I had warned you. How will it be when you go through with your genius plan? Just imagine it and then tell me again that you can do this."

"But I want to," Harry whispered.

"Yes, Harry, we understand that," Blaise spoke up, brushing some of the black strands out of the other's pale face, "But you want it for all the wrong reasons. You want it to please Tom, to make **him** happy, not because you really think that it's time for that step. Tom knows that as well as we do, he doesn't expect you to sleep with him, yet. Do you want to have sex with him just to be scared of him afterwards? Because that's what will surely happen..."

"I hate to be like this!" the green-eyed boy sobbed, "It's not fair. I want to give this to Tom. What am I supposed to do now, I don't even have a present for him!"

"Don't worry," Blaise and Draco said at once, though their ideas of suitable presents slightly differed- well, a lot actually, but that didn't mean there would be problems.

"It's not fair that Tom has to wait for me to get a grip on myself," Harry whispered dejectedly, "He should find someone else."

"Don't be stupid", Draco declared at once and his fellow Slytherin nodded emphatically, "He's lucky you chose him and, wonder of wonders, he actually knows that."

"We'll help you make this the most memorable day of his fucking life," Blaise declared. "As you said, there are a lot of personal things you can do that aren't quite sex and still will drive him absolutely crazy..." Blaise grinned, Harry looked clueless and Draco joined in after he caught on to what his oldest friend was implying.

It wasn't a rumour that deep breaths were calming, Harry decided, standing in front of Tom's room early the next morning. It was an outright lie. It had been cooked up to lead people to believe that all they had to do in order to get rid of the panic taking over their body, compelling them to run, run, run and never look back, was to keep their lungs filled with constantly fresh air. It didn't work.

Harry had been locked in a tiny cupboard under the stairs and his uncle was pounding against the door, making him reconsider his claustrophobia, because really inside that tiny little cupboard it seemed almost safe, but breathing definitely didn't help, because the rattling sounds he made, forcing the air through his abused throat would only make his uncle angrier because his vermin of a nephew was still breathing, still alive. It didn't work now either.

He was standing in front of a secret passageway, trying to work up the courage to give his boyfriend his present. A Calming Potion would work, but Draco and Blaise had confiscated his, on the absurd grounds that either he could do this or he couldn't and that when he could he didn't need a Calming Potion and if he couldn't he shouldn't be doing this. So he was trying the deep-breaths-method, telling himself that he had it under control and that he could do it- or at least he would- and whispered the password, causing the stones to rearrange and let him pass.

Tom had disabled the alarm because he wanted Harry to have a place to hide where he could just seek refuge without having to talk to anyone and since there was no other Parseltongue anywhere near, it was quite useless, anyway. The quarters looked the same as the last time Harry had been here (not that he had expected anything to change) and it soothed his fluttering nerves at least a bit and gave him the strength to silently climb the stairs to the bedroom. He stood there in the doorframe for several minutes, but not long enough to send that feeling up Tom's spine that there were eyes on him.

He stood there, just watching as the most feared man of the century was peacefully sleeping, the covers bunched up around his ankles and the smooth, muscular chest revealed, his hair slightly unruly, but not nearly as messy as Harry's. He loved to watch Tom sleep, even more so when one of those strong arms was wrapped around himself, even in his sleep protecting him against any danger.

He carefully shrugged out of his school robes, unveiling his practically nude form, and even though there were no eyes on him he blushed self-consciously and quickly approached the sleeping Dark Lord. He closed his eyes briefly, but now he was almost sure he could do it and he was absolutely sure that he wanted to do it. Harry cautiously crawled on the bed; lightly sitting on Tom's thighs, relieved as the older wizard only sighed and shifted a little, but didn't wake up. Even more warily he slipped his thin fingers under the waist band of Tom's pyjama pants and tugged and wriggled a little until Tom's semi-erect member was free, making him wonder what Tom was dreaming about.

He smirked as his plan had worked perfectly so far before starting on his real job. His finger tips ghosted over the sensitive skin, a shiver running over Tom's tall frame, before they closed around the base, massaging and squeezing until a second sigh escaped Tom's lips. Harry slowly leaned down and blew a kiss on the moist head before gently nipping down, pulling the sensitive skin with his lips and drawing a groan from Tom, while all the time fondling Tom's balls. When Tom tried to buck up, he quickly pinned his hips down with both hands and his wandless magic, not wanting to choke or worse yet panic.

Tom had the most incredible dream, Harry was there, with his gentle smile, his vibrant eyes, the soft hands and his luscious lips, all focused on him. Harry was giving him a blow-job, or maybe it was something else, because no blow-job was supposed to feel so amazingly good. But normally dreams were not supposed to feel that real, either, and he certainly was not complaining. He could almost feel the featherweight on his thighs, the hot kiss to his cock, and were those hands running through his pubic hair? Soft lips closed around his rock-hard member, suckling lightly on the head, and he tried to push up to get more of that heavenly sensation, but something unyielding held him down.

Before he had time to complain about this, slender fingers squeezed once and he spurted his semen all over his abdomen and chest, his back arched, his hands clenched through the blankets into the mattress and his mouth formed one single word: "Harry."

He sagged back into his pillows, wishing that this wasn't just a dream, and groggily blinked open his eyes, coming face to face with the most sensual picture that even surpassed his fantasies. If he hadn't been sure that he was indeed awake, for the simple reason that his cum was dripping all over his stomach, he would have thanked the Gods for not letting this dream end, yet, but as it was he thanked every God he ever heard of for making it a reality. Harry was sitting on his thighs, his hair adorably tousled and a light blush gracing his cheeks, in only a pair of black panties, with see through material at the sides and most likely the back, and a Slytherin tie loosely around his neck, which he now tugged on nervously.

"Happy Birthday, Tom." said come-true wet dream smiled unsurely at him and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips, "I hope you like my present."

"Like is putting it mildly." Tom sighed blissfully and Harry smiled a little more, "You just once and for all crossed the level where the expression 'the most amazing and sexy person I ever had the fortune to rest my eyes on' could still be used to describe you at least scantily. Now there are just no more words that would be worthy to be used in connection with you."

"Really?" Harry hopefully looked at him.

"Yes, kitten, really." Tom reassured him, "Can I hug you?"

Harry happily complied, vanishing the semen between them and freeing Tom's hips, before lying down against the warm chest, purring contently as Tom's arms wrapped around him and started to rub his back.

"How did you know that today's my birthday?" Tom asked after a while.

"I looked it up in the library." Harry murmured, "There are files on all the former students. Are you angry that I snooped around?"

"No," Tom hushed him, gently kissing his nose, "I was just surprised, little one. I don't think anyone knows my birthday."

"Okay," Harry snuggled closer, inhaling the familiar scent.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but maybe you shouldn't get too comfortable," Tom nudged him lightly, "McGonagall will kill us if we miss anymore classes- well, she most likely will kill me and chain you to a desk and glue a quill in your hand..."

"She gave us the day off, as long as we're present at lunch and dinner, she'll be happy," Harry murmured, not moving an inch.

"You're full of surprises," the red-eyed man chuckled, "Thank you."

"I have some more," Harry's face flushed in embarrassment.

"I'm intrigued," the older wizard raised one eyebrow, "and I'm really wondering who gave you those panties and why you are wearing a Slytherin tie."

"Oops," the green-eyed boy blushed even more, nestling with the tie, "I forgot."

"No, leave it on," Tom stopped his hands, capturing them with his own, before fastening the tie again, "You look cute like this."

"It was not supposed to look cute." Harry pouted, which did nothing against the cuteness, "Can't you find another word?"

"Adorable?" he suggested, which earned him a swat over the head, "Okay, okay, okay, let me think." he appraised the small boy sitting on his stomach with his eyes, lingering a bit longer on the panties, "You look absolutely ravishing. Now, tell me where did you get those panties and do you have more of them?"

"They're from Blaise and Draco; apparently every Slytherin needs black underwear."

Tom growled a little: "They need to learn what would be considered an appropriate gift for someone else's boyfriend... But I'll forgive them because they gave me such a lovely sight. So tell me, what else have you planned for me? I'm all yours."

Once again all the blood rushed to Harry's face and he leaned down to whisper his suggestions in Tom's ear, who raised an eyebrow, before a slightly dreamy and definitely aroused look crossed his face. "Which one would you like first?", Harry asked timidly.

"The first one first," he gently held Harry in place, to prevent him from getting out of bed just now, "but only if you're sure. You don't have to do this or anything else. I already had the best birthday ever and I'm sure we could find something else to do today."

"I had planned to give you everything, you know?" Harry murmured, embarrassed, "But Draco showed me that I can't do this just, yet", he ducked his head in shame, but Tom wouldn't have any of it and gently cupped his face: "I'm glad Draco made you realise this, Harry, if you're not ready, you're not ready. That's all there is. I'm sorry if I made you feel like you had to do this."

"I wanted to give you a birthday you would never forget." Harry whispered, "I still want that. It's unfair that you can't have sex because of me... I'm afraid you will leave me for someone else."

"I would never do that;" Tom kissed him sweetly, nibbling his bottom lip lightly, "Sex with someone else could never make up for a smile from you. I love you, precious, and even if I could, I wouldn't want to change that for anything. It's not your fault you're afraid, we have all the time you need."

"Thank you," Harry nuzzled his neck, "That's what Draco and Blaise said."

"Oh? What else did they say?" Tom asked a little jealously, "Did they give you the ideas for this present?"

"I couldn't stop blushing all afternoon." Harry murmured, "They had a lot more ideas and Blaise thought it would be good if he demonstrated..."

"Oh, poor Harry," Tom laughed as Harry blushed once again, "and you endured it, just to give me a nice birthday? I'm really lucky..."

"You're not angry?"

"No, beautiful."

"So, would you like your other presents now?" Harry smiled a bit more confidently and Tom nodded enthusiastically, standing up, after Harry had rolled off his stomach: "I'll wait downstairs, okay?"

Harry nodded and he (almost) bounded down the stairs to the living room, sitting down in his armchair after moving it away from his desk. He didn't have to wait long until soft, sensual music started to vibrate through the cosy room and the curtains moved to block the view from outside, plunging the room into dim light. The pale figure descending the stairs almost seemed to glow. Harry's small hips swayed lightly to the beat of the music, one hand caressing teasingly from one nipple to one razor-sharp hipbone, while the pink tongue darted out to moisten his lips that were quirked slightly to form a mischievous smile. The huge green eyes locked with his, long lashes shadowing the pale cheeks. One finger sneaked under the already low-cut panties, pushing one side even deeper to reveal more of that milky skin.

He had never seen Harry dance like this, though he had always been fascinated by the way he moved. There was so much seduction and innocence in his dance that Tom's mouth went dry, knowing that no-one else got to see Harry like this, that this was just for him. It had never been a possibility to him that he could lose interest in Harry and fall out of love with him, but he hadn't expected either that he still could fall harder and deeper for his kitten. And that name was truly fitting for Harry, who moved with a feline grace, teasing him and drawing back whenever Tom made to touch him.

Finally Harry had reached his chair and leaned over one side, nibbling his earlobe, before exploring his neck and his throat with a coy mouth, drawing a small groan from his own lips and making the blood rush down to settle... yes there! One small hand had snaked over his taut stomach and into his pyjama bottoms, caressing the heated flesh with nimble fingers before withdrawing, causing him to moan in disappointment. The mouth too retreated and Harry once again moved so that he could see the lithe beauty dance around him, touching himself the same way he would touch Tom, shy, reverently, gently, and he moaned again, his hands itching to touch himself, to be touched like that. Harry smiled at him and slowly swayed towards him, his arms coming around Tom's neck and his nose nuzzling Tom's slightly coarse cheek.

Instinctively he wanted to pull Harry closer, his hands lightly brushing over the bare skin: "Don't touch!", Harry whispered urgently and he pulled back, turning his back towards the Dark Lord, revealing that the panties were indeed transparent in the back, leaving little of Harry's tight butt to the imagination as he ground backward against the Dark Lord's cock, which made Tom moan with pleasure and his pants become wet with pre-come. Harry smiled triumphantly and cruelly pulled away again. Harry went back to dancing a few times around the now clearly aroused man, teasing him with fluttering touches, before once again sitting in his lap, but this time with his face towards the other's face, his legs perched on either side of Tom's, their cocks touching through the thin material as he rubbed against him. One pale hand wandered between their bodies, wrapping once again around Tom's cock, and got stuck there, barely able to caress the wet skin.

/I want you to come with me,/ Tom requested breathlessly and Harry nodded, allowing the taller man to very carefully caress his own cock through his panties, hardly touching.

Harry mewled in pleasure, arching into the hand, momentarily stopping his own ministrations as the talented fingers ghosted over his skin.

/Come for me, Harry,/ Tom whispered in his ear and Harry climaxed, creaming his black panties, a pleasurable shiver running through his body.

Tom came at seeing his little lion so completely debauched and sated, coating Harry's hands and the inside of his pants with the sticky mess, moaning and arching, before sagging back into the chair, pulling the small boy to his chest, enclosing him safely in his arms. They lay like that for several minutes, Harry having drifted off to sleep, happily cuddled into the smooth chest, but when Tom cautiously tried to lift him up to put him in bed, Harry's eyes fluttered open, immediately focusing on their red counterparts.

"Thank you, Tom."

"I thank you, kitten." he softly kissed the pink lips, "This was just as good as my first present, if not even better. I can't wait for the last one..."

"Okay," Harry stretched cat-like and got up, tugging his hand, "I was afraid you would laugh... I felt really stupid."

"You looked absolutely gorgeous." Tom assured him with an impish smile, "I think you just gave me the most delicious picture for lonely hours..."

Harry blushed crimson: "Do you think often of me like **that**?" he asked insecurely.

"Does it bother you?"

"I don't know." the green-eyed boy stopped uncertainly, "I guess not, it's just strange to know that you think about me like that."

"I think about you in a lot of ways, little one," he gingerly took Harry into his arms, "Don't think that you're only wanking material for me."

"I didn't think that," the Gryffindor protested with wide eyes and Tom chuckled lightly, letting himself be dragged into the bathroom, where Harry immediately turned on several water faucets of the huge bathtub.

"Is it really okay for you that I'm in here?" Tom asked as he noted the tenseness in Harry's shoulders.

"Yes, it's just...," Harry took a deep breath sitting down on the toilet seat, "the bathroom was the only room I could lock at my relatives' and as long as I was in there and as long as the door was locked, I was safe, no-one could hurt me in there and I could pretend that everything would be okay again, that all my troubles didn't exist... It was my refuge."

"Am I intruding on your refuge?"

"No, I don't need it anymore." Harry smiled hesitantly up at him, "I'm safe when I'm with you."

The red-eyed man smiled back at the small boy, nodding once, and then turned off the water: "Do you want me to go in first?"

Harry nodded, blushing a nice shade of dark pink as Tom stripped, deliberately not turning around, before lowering himself into the warm water of the sunken bathtub. He closed his eyes both in bliss and to give Harry some privacy.

Harry carefully slipped out of his soiled panties and loosened his tie before carefully approaching the relaxing Dark Lord and with a huge bit of self-confidence he stepped into the perfumed, slightly pink water, letting the foam hide his nudity from Tom, sinking so deep in until only his head peeked out.

"Can I open my eyes again?" Tom's dark voice asked after a while.

"Oh, yes, sorry," the red eyes twinkled in amusement as he found Harry's black mop of hair behind several hills of foam in the corner farthest away from him: "I found you", he declared, chuckling happily and blew some foam into Harry's face, "Oh, look, seems like it's snowing..."

A pale foot emerged near him before dropping back down, splashing his chest and his lower face: "Oh, look, seems like it's raining...", Harry mocked, wiping some foam from his face.

"You just wait!" Tom growled menacingly, splashed water over Harry, soaking the tousled black locks, and laughed at Harry's indignant glare.

Seconds later his own hair was dripping with water and Harry was chucking foam and water at him, which of course he couldn't allow to go unanswered and so their romantic bath turned into a not so romantic but funny water battle, at the end of which they had to refill the only half-full tub because the rest of the water had miraculously landed on the floor.

Tom carefully gathered the petite Gryffindor in his arms, settling him in his arms.

"That's not how I had planned it." Harry pouted, "I have water in my ears."

"Ah, but I'm the birthday boy," Tom chuckled as Harry tried to shake the water out, "I can do what I want and I wanted you to relax", he started to nibble on Harry's ear/I always get what I want, kitten, and now let us enjoy the water./

Harry purred contentedly as Tom massaged his chest with a soft washcloth, but stopped him when Tom intended to go deeper, relieved as the soft ministrations stayed over his navel from then on. Before he knew it he had fallen asleep, leaving Tom to towel him dry and to tuck him into bed after he had been changed into his pyjamas. He then had to face an angry Headmistress when he appeared alone for lunch and explain that Harry had fallen asleep. In the end McGonagall only calmed down when she'd seen a peacefully sleeping Harry in Tom's bed and after Tom had promised her to stay down in the living room as long as Harry was asleep. Then she wished him a happy birthday and walked off to teach her next class.

* * *

**So, what do you think? Tell me, please...**


	60. Marry Me

**Disclaimer: All the characters belong to the wonderfully talented J.K. Rowling and I own nothing but the plot...**

**Author's Note: Here's another chapter for you, the last chapter. It also contains a LEMON scene. Don't know what has got into me, I guess, I'm just in a generous mood #smirk#... And I have snow!!!**

**Thanks to Leianora this chapter is also betaed! Thank you for putting up with my questions!!!**

**

* * *

59. MARRY ME**

Tom asked the most important question on Harry's seventeenth birthday in a romantic restaurant near the sea while rain was pounding against the windows and the owner was in the backroom praying that his restaurant would survive the heavy storm around them. Harry shouted several enthusiastic "yes'" and flung his arms around Tom's neck before changing the symbols on Tom's ring into "love", "respect" and "patience".

Now, one month later, Harry once again stood in front of a high-ceilinged mirror in a room with Narcissa, Luna and Sirius, critically assessing his appearance. He was still too thin, but no longer looked malnourished; his skin was still pale and contrasted heavily with his messy as ever black hair. But the big difference was the eyes. They were smiling; they were happy and unhaunted, no longer fearful, no longer desperate. He was still nervous (who wouldn't be on their wedding day?), but it was a good kind of nervous. Harry smiled at his reflection, rearranging his necklace so that the snake could be seen over the hem of the emerald green and black dress robes. They had a white lily on the back, his mother's symbol, today she would be here. Prongs, Padfoot and Moony, were chasing each other around the hem of his robes and even Severus was there as a small black bat on Harry's right sleeve, though the Potion's Master knew nothing of this.

"You look beautiful, dear," Narcissa smoothed his robes, which they had bought together, tucking a strand of black hair behind his ear, "like an angel."

Harry couldn't keep the blush from his face and smiled at her, stepping from the stool with Sirius help: "You sure about this?"

"Yes, absolutely," Harry smiled happily, "he's the right one."

"Well, since you won't reconsider..." Sirius smiled impishly, "you have my blessings, I guess there's no perfect son-in-law and as long as he's the perfect husband for you, I'm happy."

"Thanks, Siri."

"We should go." Luna offered, "The marital spirits have a tight schedule."

"You just want to see Neville again," Harry teased and the blonde girl smiled dreamily, but didn't reply.

The clumsy boy had returned for their last school year, in time for Harry's second wedding, sporting a nice tan and a more confident attitude, but all in all still the same forgetful boy.

As Harry on Sirius' arm stepped out of Marauders' Reserve into the late autumn day the sky was clouded and a small drizzle dampened his skin without really getting him wet. For Harry it was perfect. The perfect day, the perfect wedding and especially the perfect husband. Tom stood waiting for him under a clear light blue pavilion with lilies decorating the posts and the rows of chairs on each side of the aisle.

Tom was wearing dark red and black robes with a snake that resembled Nagini on his back and was watching them approach. Lucius and Dudley stood at his sides, both blonds looking extremely handsome, although Dudley seemed to be feeling slightly unwell in his black and green dress robes while Lucius gave off the feeling that he had been born in his red and black robes.

Narcissa and Luna, both in light blue dresses that matched the canopy, were walking in front of Harry and took the small step up to the podium, standing next to the best men, while Sirius led Harry to stand opposite of Tom, kissed Harry's forehead lightly and then sat down next to Remus, who had his seat in the first row. This time Harry didn't need the silent comfort and consolation or those few seconds to build up his masks. He smiled at Tom.

"We have today assembled," Tiberius Ogden smiled a bit toothlessly at them, "to celebrate the marriage of these two people, Tom Marvolo Riddle and Harry James Potter. And it fills my old heart with joy to see two people care so much for each other that they were able to overcome their differences and their pasts in favour of a joined and hopefully happy future," there was some polite applause and the wizened wizard continued, "Tom, it is time for your vows."

The red-eyed man nodded before he turned to Harry, grasping his hand and tracing the silver band on his ring finger: "Harry, you were always somehow important in my life, but now I realised why that is the case. You bring out the best in me, you showed me a world I had never seen before and you gave me a reason to change. I always thought love was a nuisance, something that would stand in my way to power, but you proved me wrong. You made me stronger, Harry, and weaker at the same time. I could conquer the world, but that's not what I want anymore, you are my world, my everything, you are my strength and my weakness. Sometimes that scares me, but then I just have to look into your eyes and I know that you're worth it, that I love you and that this love is growing stronger with every day. I vow to love and respect you, to cherish every second spent in your presence. I vow to protect and take care of you. I vow to give you everything you could wish for, to put you before everyone else. I will be yours, forever and for always."

Madam Pomfrey, the ever stoic nurse, and Minerva McGonagall, the stern headmistress, were both sniffing and dabbing their eyes with their handkerchiefs.

"Harry, your vows, please."

The delicate young man took a small step closer, tightening the hold on Tom's hand before looking up at him: "When we did this one year ago, I thought it was the end of my life and I promised myself that I wouldn't break, that I wouldn't let you see me hurt, that I would never be yours and that I would make at least one of us happy. I always thought that promises should be kept under all circumstances, especially those you give to yourself. I didn't, I broke every single one and still I can't say that I regret it. You helped me climb over the walls I had built around myself, you mended me when I was only a pile of shattered pieces, you took care of me when I couldn't do so myself and you went with me through hell to lead me back to where I'm standing now. Today, I do this because I love you with all my heart and I can't imagine ever living without you again. I vow to love you and to do everything I can to make you happy. I vow to respect you and be honest and not to hide anything from you, unless I'm absolutely convinced that it would do you harm. I vow to believe you and to trust you unconditionally. I will always be yours, Tom, unintentionally perhaps, but yours nonetheless, for the rest of my life."

The two witches in the second row were now holding onto each other and several others were also stealthily wiping tears from the corners of their eyes while most of the couples were either holding hands, kissing tenderly or snogging like mad.

"Very well." the old wizard smiled happily, "Tom, do I assume correctly that you want to marry the here present Harry Potter?"

"Yes, I do."

"And Harry, do you also want to marry Mr. Riddle? An honest answer, if you please," Ogden twinkled at Harry, who blushed: "Yes, I really do."

"Ah, great," the Chief Warlock clapped his hands happily, which most of the guests (except those, who were still snogging) took as a sign to erupt in a second round of applause, "Are there any objections?" he called happily, but no-one raised their voice, "It's surely better that way, but remember that from now on, no ill word may pass your lips... With the power given to me by the Wizengamot and the Ministry I declare you husband and husband. You may kiss, but don't squeeze me," he jumped back, chuckling merrily, to give the newly-wed couple a bit of space, winking at his own wife of sixty-eight years.

Tom carefully closed the distance, Harry's slender arms coming around his neck, and cupped the beautiful face of his husband, gently kissing the moist lips, receiving entrance to the warm cavern behind. Harry purred contently as his tongue was caressed as if in invitation to a dance.

They kept standing in the rain for a while longer as all the guests slowly wandered inside where the meal would take place. Tom tenderly caressed Harry's face before he engaged his once-again-husband in another much more passionate kiss, drawing a small cat-like sound from Harry. Finally he pulled back and, taking Harry by the hand, led him inside.

All the rooms downstairs had been connected to form one big one, the walls magically moved to the side. And this time there was no Dumbledore to interrupt and though most of the Weasleys were present they were far from glaring daggers into Harry's head. All in all it was a small gathering, only their real friends, not even all of the Death Eaters were invited and hardly anyone of the Ministry.

"Are you happy?" Tom murmured in Harry's ear as Lucius got up to make his speech,

"Yes, Tom," Harry slipped into his lap, "I'm more than happy."

Lucius cleared his throat, getting everyone's attention, even his son's, who had been part of one of the very heavily snogging couples: "I could tell you now that I always knew that they were destined for each other, but you wouldn't believe me and indeed it wouldn't be completely true. Everyone can easily see that Harry can make any man happy just by being himself. Tom, on the other hand," he allowed a smirk to play about his lips, "Tom never tried to make anyone happy until Harry came and even then he had a strange way of showing his affection. Eventually they found themselves together. They have proven to us that love is stronger than the most powerful magic and the most powerful villains. They have proven to us that you can change for one person without losing yourself, that masks can never truly replace who we are. They have found each other when they themselves couldn't find themselves, they have fought and they have suffered, but in the end they won. And that's where we are now, we are at the end and at the same time this is only just the beginning of something new, of something great and of something I'm sure will surprise us all. But today we want to let both the past and the future rest in peace and just enjoy this really fabulous day." he raised his glass in their direction, inclining his head.

The assembled guests followed his example and they all drank a toast to the newly weds, making Harry blush and smile happily while Tom unconsciously tightened his hold on his Harry and warily watched as Dudley took Lucius' place to make his speech.

"I still stand by what I said", the Muggle started, "Harry is too good for you. But you make him happy and you keep him safe and we all know that's not an easy job", several people laughed and Harry's blush darkened, "You have my respect for somehow managing to convince Harry that he, too, deserves justice and love and for giving him both", he looked from Voldemort over to his small cousin, "Harry is the one person who never did anything wrong and yet had all those bad things happen to him because he was trying to help others. If anyone deserves happiness and love it is Harry. And he deserves to lead a normal life, even though I know that he could never be normal. Harry, I just have to look at you now and I know that you trust Voldemort completely because I can see that you gave up your control for him because he's so used to being in charge. He's used to having everyone obey him. You never wanted to give up control like this; you said you were afraid to be so helpless. That you do so now is proof enough for me that he's the right one. Be happy, Harry, you deserve it!"

Harry returned the brilliant smile Dudley was giving him before snuggling into the Dark Lord's arms once again.

/You know you don't have to give up your control for me, right?/ Tom asked lowly/I don't mind if you are stronger than me, kitten./

/I know you wouldn't mind, but I like you how you are now./ Harry grinned impishly at him/I like my own personal Dark Lord,/ Harry pressed his lips to Tom's, framing his face with his pale hands/Everyone always expected me to be strong and perfect and I'm glad that I don't have to be anymore. Just because I give up my control doesn't mean that I'm weak, Tom. /

/I know, little one./ Tom smiled/I know you are not weak, you are the strongest person I know and I am very lucky that you allow me to take care of you./

/Dance with me?/ Harry requested as soft music began to play, getting up as Tom nodded.

Tom stood up as well, smiling down at his slight husband, and offered his hand, which was immediately accepted. He quickly led them to the middle of the dance floor, well aware of all the eyes that rested on them, but not in the mood to care. His hand still safely holding Harry's, he moved his other hand to rest on the small of Harry's back, pulling him closer. Tom expertly swept them over the dance floor, swirling and swaying them to the rhythm of the music. Harry had the feeling that he was barely touching the ground, it felt like floating, and he was so caught in Tom's eyes that were firmly locked with his own that he didn't notice them slowing until Tom was only swaying them in place.

"Do you want to do anything else before we go?", Tom demanded softly, still swaying them lightly, "We still have about half an hour."

Harry thought for a moment, but then shook his head lightly: "I already said my good-byes. To be honest, all these people are getting a bit too much. Can we go now? And will you finally tell me where we are going?"

"Yes to the first question and no to the second," Tom smirked, "but you'll like it, I promise."

Harry scowled at him, but as Tom only calmly returned his glare he eventually gave a tentative smile and allowed Tom to lead him from the dance floor over to their table.

"You know how to contact us if anything should happen", Tom stated and the others nodded, "Black, do you have that portkey for Harry?"

Sirius nodded and handed Harry a flat stone: "Just say 'Snuffles' and you will be transported back here, okay? Or if Voldy does something to upset you, you can hit him over the head with it."

"Erm, thanks?", Harry replied uncertainly, grabbing Tom's hand, "Why do I need it?"

"Just to be safe, kitten", Tom reassured him, "Are you ready to go?"

Harry nodded, snuggling into Tom's chest. Tom embraced him tightly and then whisked them away, the wards around Marauders' Reserve having been lowered for the occasion.

"You can open your eyes", Tom stated in amusement, having moved around Harry so that Harry's back was leaning against his chest.

Harry didn't particularly want to open his eyes. It was really cold where Tom had apparated them to and he was a little afraid to come face to face with some cold, dusty dungeon. Something wet and soft landed on his cheek and his eyes fluttered open. Snow. The sight was breathtaking, he had never seen so much snow before, nor could he remember ever having been able to look so far. Wherever they had landed was obviously night and the sky was midnight-blue and cloudless, stars blinking down at them and the half moon illuminating all the whiteness surrounding them while snow flakes danced all around them. He could feel the snow already dampening his dress pants, making them cling to his legs, but it only added to the harmony of the situation. They were standing on top of a hill or more like a mountain, overlooking the vast snow-covered lands.

Tom's hands were gently stroking his sides and while he could see his own breath coming in small puffs of air, Tom's was teasing his neck. A loving kiss was pressed on the sensitive patch of skin behind his ear.

"We are in the Alps." he explained softly and turned Harry around, pointing at a small cosy-looking hotel that stood only about two hundred metres away, "Do you see that little balcony to the side? That's our room. Do you like it?"

Harry was still so awe-struck that Tom's question didn't register. The hotel was barely more than a silhouette, but it was still perfect to Harry.

"We don't have to share a room, Harry." Tom murmured, "I can understand if you are not ready. I already talked to the manager, there's another room for me so you can have this one all for yourself..."

"Tom," Harry interrupted him, smiling, "stop rambling, okay? It's perfect and I do want to share a room with you. I want you to make love to me tonight." he blushed, but nonetheless held eye contact with the Dark Lord, showing him that he was being serious.

"Love me, Tom?"

"Harry..." Tom trailed off uncertainly, "We don't have to do this. I can wait and I think we should wait."

"Why?" Harry tilted his head upwards, "Don't you trust me to know when I'm ready? I know that I am, Tom. You said you would give me the perfect wedding and for me the perfect wedding includes the wedding night. Please, Tom, please..."

Tom sighed deeply and then cupped Harry's face with his hands: "I want to believe you, Harry, and I want to make love to you, but I want you to heal much more urgently."

"I'm tired of healing." Harry stomped his foot in irritation, "I've done nothing else for almost a year. I'm not made of glass, Tom, I will not have a mental breakdown. Do you want to keep me all cushioned up for the rest of my life until the banging of a door could make me panic? I'm feeling much better than I ever remember feeling and I enjoyed sex with you most of the time." he grabbed Tom's hand when the Dark Lord made to draw back, "I want this. I want to be yours. Let me forget for just one night what they did to me. As good as your intentions are they keep reminding me of what happened and I know I have to deal with it and can't push it away and pretend it never happened, but this is my wedding and I want to enjoy it. Give me this one night and I will resume healing afterwards. Please, Tom."

"Okay," Tom relented, drawing his small husband close, "but you will stop me before I do anything you don't like."

Harry's only response was to roll his eyes and to kiss Tom's cheek: "Don't you think we've had enough paranoia for quite some time?" he asked innocently, brushing his lips over Tom's, who had lowered his head slightly, "Yes, I will stop you when I don't like something, I promise. Now could we maybe go somewhere where it's warm and preferably dry? Please?"

Tom chuckled lightly as he noticed the way Harry was pressing close to him to get more warmth. Maybe he should have told Harry to wear something warm, but that would have spoiled the surprise. Their robes were not exactly the warmest since they had spent most of the time inside and though he had charmed his clothes and shoes water-proof when he had found the sky clouded on his wedding day, he was sure that Harry hadn't done the same. He suddenly felt guilty, laughing at Harry for being cold and apparated them inside. The owner of the hotel was a squib with little to no connection to the Wizarding world, but Tom had made sure that they could still do magic as long as the Muggle guests didn't see them.

The room Tom apparated them to was only illuminated by the flickering fire of the chimney, in front of which a big, fluffy white rug lay. There was a huge bed with deep blue covers in the middle of the room also with rugs at the side and a second door led to a bathroom. But Harry barely took note of all this as Tom gently kissed the coldness from his face and his hands before helping him out of his wet robes.

Harry smiled encouragingly at his husband as he asked permission to remove the rest of his clothes, but couldn't help but blush as Tom pushed his wet dress pants down, stabilising him as he stepped out of them and then stood gloriously nude in front of the Dark Lord.

"Want to help me?" Tom smirked, starting to unbutton his own shirt after he had already left his robes on a pile with Harry's clothes.

Timid hands reached up, replacing his own, and carefully slid the buttons from their slits. A small kiss was pressed to the middle of his chest just on Harry's eye level as the shirt pooled at his feet and pale fingers nestled with the zipper of his pants. He groaned softly, feeling the shadow of a touch caressing his erection as his pants and underwear also fell. As he had come to expect Harry blushed again and he chuckled, making the messy black-haired head snap up in confusion.

"What are you laughing about?" Harry asked, not sure if he should be hurt or just join in.

"You, of course." Tom replied without hesitation, pulling Harry flush against his body, emitting a rather undignified squeak from the delicate youth, "You always blush and look away when you see me naked. Am I so ugly to look at? Why, I'm hurt."

"No," Harry protested immediately before he became aware of Tom's teasing tone, "You are mean", Harry pouted.

"One of us has to be," Tom gave back and then moved his attention to Harry's neck, nibbling and licking until Harry sported a nice hickey and was moaning and purring, pressing against him.

"Does this rug look as comfortable to you as it does to me?," he asked gently, laughing softly as Harry nodded and curled his toes in the white fur, "Then come."

He cautiously made Harry sit down, facing him so that the slender legs lay snugly around his waist while Harry was enclosed by his long legs. Harry bit his lip to stop from giggling as one of Tom's fingers slowly caressed from his right hip up to his right armpit, but judging by Tom's amused expression he knew exactly what effect his ministration had. His hands tangled in Tom's black hair when he was pulled closer, their erections rubbing against each other as the Dark Lord ran a teasing finger down Harry's spine and to the cleft of his arse. The hand stayed there even as Tom released his hold to be able to kiss Harry full on the lips. A low purr escaped Harry's throat when Tom's mouth latched onto his left nipple, suckling and slightly scraping his teeth over the sensitive flesh. At last he blew a chaste kiss on the hardened nub and turned to the other, repeating the process. Tom smiled with amusement as Harry tried to press closer and give him enough space to continue at the same time, his back arching while he pressed their hips together, guided by Tom's hand that still lingered at his arse. He mapped every patch of skin with his kisses, lowering Harry until he was almost lying on the soft rug, his hips propped up by Tom's legs.

Harry felt very vulnerable in this position, spread wide for his Tom. His hands futily clenched in the soft fabric beneath him as Tom's tongue tipped into his belly-button, but it also felt good and strangely safe to have Tom's legs and arms framing and enclosing him.

Something like fear coiled in the pit of his stomach as his back touched the rug beneath him and he struggled to get up again. He didn't want to see Tom hovering over him, making him feel so small and pathetic.

"Shh, calm down, kitten." Tom gently grasped Harry's flailing arms and pulled him back up, letting Harry sit on his stomach. "It's okay. Calm down, my Harry."

"I didn't like that." Harry finally whispered, "Don't make me lie on the floor, please."

"I won't," Tom promised, soothingly running his fingers through Harry's wild locks, "Are you sure you still want this?"

Harry nodded his head, leaning into Tom's touch: "Make me yours, Tom."

Tom groaned at those words and summoned the lubricant from where he had earlier put their things, which caused Harry to start laughing uncontrollably. Tom just raised an eyebrow and waited till Harry had calmed down enough to give a coherent answer.

"Care to tell me what's so funny?"

"Just... You have the lube and yet you tried to convince me that I wasn't ready." Harry snickered, "Seems like you weren't completely honest with me, Professor Riddle."

Harry thought it was really unfair that Tom never blushed as he studied Tom's slightly embarrassed face because he was sure that if Tom could blush he would have blushed now.

"I might have had some hopes," he admitted sheepishly, "but I would never have forced you."

"I wasn't implying that you would have." Harry assured him, "Thanks for trying to stop me."

"I'll gladly do so again", Tom smirked, uncapping the jar and dipping his fingers into the gooey liquid, "Ready?"

Harry nodded and slipped back into Tom's lap as the older wizard sat up, holding onto him as a finger circled his anus and slowly pushed in. It felt strange and at the same time all too familiar, but Harry pushed that feeling aside. He wanted to enjoy this and he would do so and forget about everything for this one night. Of course he did it for Tom, but also for himself. This was their wedding, their night and he would not allow anything to ruin that.

He mewed quietly when Tom carefully slid into him, one hand rubbing his back soothingly while the other was stabilising his form as he slowly rocked in and out of him, brushing that spot inside of him, which sent stars dancing in front of his unfocused eyes. He couldn't have said afterwards how long they moved like this, Tom tenderly embracing him and kissing him passionately yet gently as his hands were fisted in Tom's hair, moving in perfect sync, before he found his release just as Tom climaxed inside of him, coating his insides with his familiar warmth. But it felt good and he was okay and he was willing to heal again.

Tom gently brushed one of the sweaty black strands out of Harry's eyes, smiling lovingly as he found green eyes peering at him.

"Are you okay, little one?" he inquired, cupping Harry's face as the smaller wizard made to lay down on his chest so that he would be able to look into Harry's eyes.

"Yes, Tom," Harry smiled, leaning into the touch, "thank you."

"You don't have to thank me."

"I know, but I wanted to." the green-eyed boy replied earnestly, "I love you."

"I love you, too, precious." Tom allowed Harry to snuggle into his chest, his arms moving away from Harry's face and to his back, where he began drawing circles. "Do you want to sleep?"

Harry shook his head lightly: "I just want to lay here and brand this moment in my mind so that I will never ever forget it."

"If you should forget it, I will make sure to remind you", Harry could feel the low rumble of Tom's voice as well as the older man's heartbeat and he knew that he would cherish this moment for the rest of his life.

Their life. He closed his eyes as he thought of the house Tom had bought for them. It had a huge garden with old apple and pear trees and an even older willow, which was leisurely bathing its long branches in the river that flew past their house and then disappeared in a small forest. The house itself was huge (something Tom had insisted on, being a Dark Lord and all that) as were the rooms. Everything was extremely spacey and there was barely a room or even a part of the corridor that wasn't bathed in light by one of the many windows.

"What are you thinking about, Harry?" Tom asked after a while in which he had studied Harry's relaxed features.

"Our house," Harry answered, "thanks for buying it."

"You said you didn't want to live in Slytherin Castle," Tom shrugged, "and a bit of privacy will surely be nice", he winked at Harry, who promptly blushed.

"What exactly have you planned for the next week?", Harry asked in an attempt to change the subject.

"Whatever you like, little one." Tom gave back immediately, "We can take skiing lessons since I don't assume you ever went skiing before. Or we can enjoy the baths and whirlpools they have here. Or we can go hiking or we can just spend the whole day in bed."

"Sounds good." Harry yawned, "Can we do a little bit of everything?"

"Sure, love." the red-eyed man chuckled, "Mind if I move us to the bed?"

Harry shook his head, clearly tired, and was soon after curled up under the covers, blinking up at Tom: "Would you mind wearing some pyjamas?", he asked timidly, "I don't want to wake up and panic because a naked man is lying next to me."

Tom merely smiled and quickly changed into his pyjamas before he also slipped under the thick covers, waiting for Harry to crawl onto his chest before enveloping him in his arms. Soon after he felt Harry's breathing evening out, but wasn't really tired.

As he thought back on the last few months that had mostly consisted of Harry's healing, as Harry had rightly pointed out, he couldn't help but feel grateful and awed that they had got this far, that finally Harry was truly his. Truth be told, he had never had a reason to believe otherwise. Harry had only ever allowed him to kiss and hold him, had looked at no-one as if he was interested in them in such a way, had never even rejected Tom's advances, though Tom had made sure that Harry would like what he was planning. He had talked so often with Black and Simon, just trying to understand how Harry felt and what he was supposed to do and it had paid off. No, Harry, had never given any indication that he wouldn't want to marry Tom once more, but it still felt like a lead weight had been taken from his shoulders.

He had often wondered where Harry got the strength to fight his demons, to cope with what happened and had silently feared that some day it would be too much. It wasn't that he didn't trust Harry, but he knew as well that he wouldn't have been able to take this much and that Harry had every right to not want anymore. And he knew that if that should happen, that if Harry really wanted to give up, it would be his duty to let him go in to find peace somewhere else. He hadn't been afraid that Harry would fail, no, he had been afraid that he would fail Harry.

That was why he was in awe and why he was relieved. Now, with Harry safely in his arms, it felt like everything was perfect and he had the stupid thought that this was a truly magical moment before reprimanding himself for becoming a romantic sap and deciding that it would be best to sleep now and to take Harry's breath away with his good-morning-kiss.

With this all settled, he closed his eyes, whispered another "I love you" and followed Harry into the land of dreams where he dreamed about their joint future.

* * *

**That was the last chapter, but don't abandon me just yet because I still have an epilogue for you.**

**And I would really appreciate a little review- of course, I wouldn't mind a big review, either #lol#...**


	61. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: By now, we should all be aware of the fact that J.K.Rowling owns the characters from the Harry Potter books...**

**Author's Note: #sniff# That's it! The very last part! #sob# I thank everyone for reading this far and for all the wonderful and encouraging reviews I got. You are great and I can't thank you enough for supporting me like this. **

**I will repost the first chapters after they are betaed. On that note, a very, very big thank you to Leianora, who helped me to make my chapters more understandable and found countless mistakes before I had the chance to embarrass myseld and who offered to go over the beginning as well.**

**Enjoy the epilogue! Oh, and because I was in a good mood and thought you deserved a little farewell present this chapter contains LEMONS!

* * *

**

**EPILOGUE**

The Dark Lord hated environmental pollution. He hated orange- it clashed horribly with his eyes. He hated Muggles and the supposedly good ideas they had. He hated small-time criminals. He hated plastic bags and waste. He hated cars and he hated lorries even more.

Although he hated all those things, he loved Harry Potter. Harry thought he should make amends for his earlier deeds; so he now fought through the bushes lining the autobahn, wearing a pair of orange overalls and picked up the waste thoughtless Muggles had thrown out of their car windows just so that the courts could condemn as good as innocent people to picking it up again. According to Harry it was supposed to help him with his guilt- he had wisely refrained from telling him that he didn't feel in the least guilty, for it had got him what he wanted most in the whole world. According to Harry it was unfair that people like Black or the Lestranges had spent half their lives in Azkaban, while he had never even given an apology, which he had agreed to and apologised to Harry, who quite astutely pointed out that it wasn't a sincere apology. So instead he argued that wandering as a bodiless spirit wasn't the best of experiences, either, and for a split second he was sure Harry would give in. He had had this look. But then instead he swatted him over the head and told him that it was his own fault and that he shouldn't make such a fuss because of a bit of social work.

Oh, yes, he hated Simon because he had arranged all of this. He was now working with Muggle criminals who looked as disgruntled as he did. Half of them hadn't washed in several days and the other half probably never used a shower, adding to the general smell of waste gas and their supervisor's cheap aftershave. The Muggles working alongside him all tried to look as dangerous as possible. The stronger and more ruthless ones bumped into anyone, who then either bumped back, starting a fist fight, until the watchdogs broke them up, condemning them to several more hours and sent them to opposite sides, or ignored the bumper, marking them as easy prey.

Harry had taken his wand, but nonetheless Tom had earned the respect or rather the fear of the other criminals with a bit of wandless magic and martial arts. No-one dared to come near him after that, which was all right with him and enabled him to mentally curse everyone he could think of.

He hated Lucius because the smirk on his face seemed to be frozen in place and because he made highly inappropriate suggestions, concerning his and Harry's sex-life, which truth to be told was more of a myth than anything, every time he absolutely didn't expect or need it, like for example this morning, leaving him with a little problem when he thought about it during the ride here.

He hated Black because the Animagus loved to tease him with acting like his father-in-law and because there was absolutely no way he could curse him.

He hated Draco, Blaise and Ron because they had the fortune to have lunch with Harry, while he was forced to pick up his 86th can. He also hated the whole Weasley clan because they still made Harry nervous, though Harry denied it vehemently, and because he knew exactly that after a meeting with any member of the Weasley family Harry would shy away from him or worse yet cry for hours because he couldn't overcome his fears.

He hated Granger and the Weasley girl for obvious reasons and he made a point to visit them at least once a month (without Harry's knowledge of course) and demonstrate them his loathing. He had Percy's permission for it, too, and so he was slightly grateful to the Minister of Magic, although he scared Harry just like every other Weasley.

He hated the Dursleys because they had worked years to destroy every ounce of self-esteem Harry had ever possessed, causing him to think that he wasn't worth anyone's positive attention.

He hated Dumbledore more than anyone else and since practically everyone in the Wizarding World shared this sentiment there hadn't been one tear shed when his death had been reported on the front page and all the shops selling Filibuster's Fireworks and other party equipment had a record turnover. But he still hated him, because even the vampires' sentence was far too lenient in his eyes for how much pain he had caused Harry and his death didn't really help Harry to get better. And he hated Dumbledore because he didn't have to see how much Harry suffered, how much harm he had done. And even if he could see the delicate young man from his place in the deepest level of hell, he wouldn't feel anything but satisfaction. And for that he hated him.

He decided he should pay Azkaban a visit after his shift was over, which was- he checked the watch Harry had got him, the only reason he carried it- in five minutes. He straightened up, dropped the 104th can in his plastic bag and brushed off his orange overalls.

"I'm done," he declared, walked over to the supervisor and put the plastic bag onto the load area of the truck.

"There are still several minutes..." the grey-haired Muggle trailed off uncertainly as he saw red eyes flashing dangerously, "but you've done good work, Riddle. You may go."

Tom snorted and nodded sharply at the Muggle, making clear to everyone that it had been his decision, and walked to the parking lot, where their bus was waiting. He signed his name on the sheet of paper the driver handed him and took a seat near the back, where he had put the things Harry had deemed necessary: A bottle of water (he gratefully took a swig from it, trying to get rid of the furry taste in his mouth), an apple and two cheese sandwiches (though Harry had obviously been in a hurry because he had forgotten to put cheese on his sandwiches), the book he was currently reading to shorten the rides, the cell phone Harry had got him so that he could call in case of an emergency. In his opinion it would have been much easier to just let him keep his wand, but Harry didn't want to hear anything of that idea and had pushed him out of the door.

Gradually his fellow criminals arrived in dribs and drabs, some vocalising their displeasure and the general unfairness of the world while others just quietly took their seats. When the supervisor and his watchdogs got into the bus, the driver started the motor and slowly brought them back to the administration office, where everyone had to get a stamp for the hours they had worked today.

Harry had more or less convinced him that two-hundred hours of social work would be a great idea. So far he had worked fifty-six hours, today included, and he was close to cursing Harry. Close, but not quite there because every time he was close Harry would do something incredible for him or merely look at him with those pleading eyes and all his anger would wash away.

He sighed in relief when he finally reached the small cottage on the outskirts of this sleepy village from where he could floo back home. If Harry wasn't there yet he could get his wand and pay a visit to some **dear** friends of his.

But Harry was home. He lay near the fireplace, waiting for him, a plate of cookies as company, fast asleep. Those were the things that persuaded Tom that it was all worth it, that told him that eventually everything would be fine.

"Hey, precious", he carefully approached the sleeping boy, gathering him in his arms, when he got no response.

Harry was always tired these days, but at least he slept more peacefully, especially when Tom was watching over him. The red-eyed man carefully carried the still too thin young man upstairs, debating whether he should bring him to his room or to the room they shared, but since Harry had started sleeping with him in one bed several months ago, he decided on their room, tenderly tucking the former Gryffindor in.

"What are you doing to me, Harry?" he murmured softly, getting up to take a shower.

"Am I doing anything?" Harry blinked his eyes open slowly, staring up at him in confusion, "I'm sorry."

"What did I say about saying sorry?" he raised his eyebrow expectantly.

"That you're the only one allowed to say it in this house." Harry smiled lightly, "How did I get here? I wanted to wait for you."

"You did, you just fell asleep." he sat back down next to his husband, gently brushing away some of the black strands, "How was your day? Did you have a nice time with your friends?"

"Yes," Harry snuggled into him, nuzzling his hand, "Ron and Charlie were both there and I'm feeling good."

"I'm glad to hear that." Tom softly kissed his forehead, "Are you really okay?"

This was the only rule he insisted on. No more lies. No more half-truths. No more secrets.

The green-eyed boy nodded. "How was work?"

"Dirty, annoying and over all very irritating." his face darkened, "I still don't understand why you force me to do this."

"Because you said you would do everything for me."

"Don't you think I have other qualities than picking up waste?" he scowled down at the slight wizard.

"Of course you have," Harry pulled him down so that he could rest his head on the broad chest, "And I'm really grateful you're doing this for me, Tom, but you can stop, if you hate it so much."

"I'll do it, if it makes you happy," he brushed his lips over Harry's, "but now I really have to take a shower..."

Harry blushed, but wouldn't let go: "Can I shower with you?"

"You know, I would be delighted." he once again lifted the smaller wizard up, carrying him to the bathroom and sitting him down on the toilet seat, "Shower or bath?"

"I have an appointment with Madam Pomfrey in an hour."

"Shower it is then." Tom nodded, "Don't you feel good, Harry? Is something wrong?"

"It's just my monthly check-up." Harry shrugged nonchalantly, allowing Tom, who had already stripped off his overalls, to take off his clothes, "You know how she is..."

"I know that generally, when someone is worried about you, they have a good reason to be," Tom chuckled and Harry swatted him on the arm before leaning against him. "Will you come with me?"

"I love nothing more than to take care of you, Harry." he skipped down, nibbling Harry's bottom lip, teasing it, until Harry's mouth opened slightly, allowing him to explore the hot cavern, "Well, okay, I like kissing you even more," he pulled back slightly, looking down at the smaller boy, tracing the slender, lightly muscled body before him with reverential, gentle strokes, "and touching you and doing wicked things with you."

"I like that, too," Harry blushed brightly, but didn't pull back, which Tom took as a good sign.

He admired the enticing figure in front of him, only clad in a pair of panties Tom had bought for him and he knew that Harry only wore them to make him happy, which made him appreciate the sight even more. Shy, soft hands distracted him from his watching and he looked down into Harry's bright green eyes, returning his smile.

"I love those panties," he murmured, hooking his thumbs under the waist band, "but I'd still rather have them go. May I?"

Harry nodded timidly, pressing closer to Tom's hard body, wriggling a little as the older wizard pushed the skimpy article of clothes down his slender legs. Moments after he had stepped out of his panties he felt himself scooped up and carried to the shower, the soft spray of water sending droplets running over his face, down his back and stomach.

They spent a brief moment like that, merely enjoying being so close together, before Tom gently kissed the little drops away from Harry's face, not liking in the least how they reminded him of tears and Harry purred contently, reaching around Tom for the shower gel.

Tom reluctantly loosened his hold as Harry pushed lightly against his chest and carefully set him back down on his own two feet. Harry grinned up at him and then stepped around him, squeezing some of the shower soap in his hands, and slowly massaged it into Tom's tense shoulders.

The Dark Lord groaned, bracing himself against the tiled walls as Harry's small hands diligently worked their way down his back, kneading his taut muscles and rubbing the soreness away. He heard Harry getting down on his knees behind him and already wanted to tell him that he should get back up because it couldn't be very comfortable, but was distracted as Harry continued his ministrations soaping his legs, paying special attention to his feet, slowly working his way up again until Harry's hands eventually landed on his buttocks and then reached around him.

Tom growled softly as Harry sidled back between his arms, dropping his hands to lightly rest on Harry's hips as Harry also covered his front with the soap. Just as Tom had hoped that Harry would finally take pity on him and tend to his straining erection, Harry instead took his right hand between his smaller ones and began to very thoroughly wash them of the dirt and grime from his work. He then turned to his other hand, repeating the process with the same care.

"Are you teasing me on purpose, my sweet?" Tom murmured and captured Harry's hands.

"Sometimes," Harry smirked at him, putting his arms around Tom's neck.

"Then are you prepared to take the consequences?" the red-eyed man challenged.

Harry nodded shyly, pressing his lips to the older man's, relieved to get a response immediately. He purred happily when Tom's hands glided over his body while his tongue mimicked the movement in his mouth and he felt the chuckle vibrate through Tom's chest.

"You are so beautiful, kitten," Tom moaned, kissing Harry's sweet spot behind his ear and making the small boy mewl in bliss, "I love you."

"I love you, too, Tom," Harry pressed even closer to the taller man, "and I'm not afraid anymore."

Tom pulled back, shocked. "Does that mean you were scared the last few times? Harry, why..."

"Oh, hush," the green-eyed wizard chastised him, "you worry too much. It felt good, you were great and I was a bit nervous, but now I'm not anymore, okay? You make me feel safe and I know you'll never hurt me. I'm happy, now let me make you happy as well..." he drew the older man down and kissed him again before gently rocking against him, causing him to moan in pleasure, "Am I making you happy?"

"Yes, more than you'll ever know," Tom groaned.

Harry lifted his right leg, wrapping it around Tom's waist, bringing them even closer together. They both gave a moan at the friction: Harry's a barely audible mewl, Tom's a low guttural sound. The older man gently pressed their lips together before he carefully lifted his small husband into his arms, pushing him against the shower wall, making sure that Harry was comfortable, as he continued.

A wandless Summoning Spell later, Tom held a jar of lubricant in his hands and liberally coated his fingers with the viscous liquid. He teasingly circled Harry's entrance with one finger until Harry was arching into his touch and then slowly pushed in. Harry whimpered as his muscles were uncomfortably stretched, but that soon turned into a mewl when Tom slowly pressed deeper while at the same time rubbing his stomach.

"God, more," he pleaded, throwing his head back, exposing his throat to let Tom nibble down on it when Tom's finger brushed against that spot inside of him.

"You can call me Tom," the Dark Lord chuckled even more when Harry growled in displeasure, but obediently added a second finger, twisting sharply and making Harry cry out in pleasure as he hit his prostate once again.

He loved seeing Harry like this, though he hadn't had the pleasure very often since their honeymoon. First Harry had gone back to school and though he still held the Defence position, Harry hadn't felt safe enough to allow him such intimacies so that such contact had been limited to the holidays and even then it had been a rare occurrence. To be honest, it wasn't Harry's doing alone. Tom had made quite clear that he was not interested in pressuring Harry into anything that he wasn't ready to do and had pleaded with Harry to not do anything that he would later regret and for which he would have to blame himself. So that had resulted in the fact that Tom could count these occurrences on the fingers of one hand, though Harry had made sure to compensate him otherwise.

A slow smirk spread over his face as Harry arched into him, his hands tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. For once Harry was more affected by what they were doing than he himself was- well, maybe not more, but at least to the same degree- and he was glad that Harry finally seemed to be able to enjoy himself without reservations and let himself go. The delicate boy mewled and begged and arched into his touch. His hair was wet, his eyes lidded in pleasure, his breath came in shallow gasps and his legs would have slipped from Tom's waist if the older man hadn't looped one arm under Harry's thighs. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over Tom and he himself wasn't quite sure if those were entirely his own feelings.

"I want you in me, now," Harry panted, "please, Tom..."

Who could resist such a plea? He certainly couldn't, but he still slid in with due care, soothing hands stroking Harry all the while.

All his previous anger was forgotten as he felt the familiar heat engulf him, when he heard his name, whispered against the shell of his ear, while Harry desperately clutched to him as he pushed into his little lover.

"More, Tom," he moaned and the red-eyed man complied, accelerating his thrusts, going a bit deeper with every one, but still careful to not hurt Harry.

He was losing control. He knew it, even before Harry moaned directly in his ear. His thrusts became more forceful and slightly irregular as he felt himself nearing his climax, but Harry didn't seem to mind in the least and clutched his wet body, panting in his ear.

"Let it go, Tom," he whispered, "I'm fine."

He came with one loud shout, spurting his semen into his smaller husband, just as Harry reached his climax, coating both their bodies with his semen. Tom barely had enough energy left to support Harry and himself and carefully let the smaller wizard down, the arm around his waist keeping him upright as the pleasure slowly ebbed away to be replaced by a feeling of satiety and contentment. He leaned his forehead against Harry, watching through lidded eyes as Harry tried to regain his breath.

"What was that, Harry?" Tom asked, surprised, turning off the water and reaching for a towel, "You acted like a little nymph..."

"I wanted to tell you something." Harry allowed Tom to wrap the towel around him, wincing slightly, but appeasing Tom immediately with his smile, "There's another reason why I have to see Madam Pomfrey today."

"Are you ill, Harry?" Tom asked, alarmed, lifting Harry out of the shower, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"No, I'm not ill," Harry swatted him over the head once more, "but you should really learn a Contraception Charm, Mister, I thought you learned from it last time."

"You're pregnant?" Tom asked, preparing himself for the tongue-lashing he would certainly receive.

Harry nodded uncertainly. "Are you angry?"

"No, Harry," Tom hugged him tightly, "I'm certainly not angry, I'm just worried what you'll do to me now. I totally forgot the charm; I thought it was impossible for you, after what happened. I'm sorry."

"I thought so, too, but I'm kind of happy, you know? If you had known you wouldn't have let me get pregnant until you thought I was absolutely fine again, maybe never. But I am fine, Tom, and I want this child, our child." Harry looked pleadingly at him, "Don't say again that I should abort it," Harry begged urgently.

Tom nodded, caressing his face. "I did learn some things. I'm looking forward to having a child with you; I just wished we could have waited a bit longer, till I'm convinced as well that you're completely okay again..."

"I'm okay, Tom," Harry smiled happily, "let me show you." he disentangled himself from Tom's half embrace and lay down on the dark green plush carpet, "Come."

"Harry..." Tom tried to argue, but the small Gryffindor only smiled at him and reached one arm up at him, until he finally gave in and moved to hover over his green-eyed husband.

"I practised with Luna and Pansy and the others, even with Ron and Charlie." Harry smiled triumphantly, "I wanted to surprise you."

"That certainly worked out." Tom smiled back in relief, "I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you," Harry returned, "Will you allow me to keep the baby?"

"Harry, you don't need my permission." Tom replied in shock, "I already said that I want this baby, but it is your decision. Why do you think that I would forbid it?"

"You weren't exactly happy about my last pregnancy." Harry whispered, "I thought you would perhaps not want to risk losing me again. I know how worried you were the last time, I could feel it. And I don't want you to worry and I want you to decide with me. Don't leave me alone, Tom, please don't leave me alone."

"Of course, I was worried about you, little one. You are so frail and fragile and I was afraid you would die." Tom whispered, "I'm worried now, too, but you are in far better health and you are older and out of school. I firmly believe that you will make it. I can't stop worrying, but I trust you. I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life with you alone, to have you all to myself, but I also know how much you want children and I look forward to watching you being a parent, to being a parent myself. Whatever you decide will be fine with me as long as it is what you want."

"I want this child, Tom," Harry said immediately.

"Then I will do everything in my power to make sure that nothing will go wrong, kitten," the red-eyed wizard smiled, "Is there anything I can do right now?"

"Would you mind getting up? The floor is kind of cold..." the younger man asked.

"We should go to Madam Pomfrey, anyway," Tom agreed and helped Harry up, wrapping him in one of the towels and dried him off, "I can't believe we're having a baby."

"I can't believe I got such a great husband," Harry returned, "Promise that you'll never leave me."

"I promise," Tom skipped down to kiss him, "even if you demand I do more social work."

"Is it wrong that I want a bit of justice for my parents?" Harry asked softly.

"No, it's not, precious." the red-eyed man assured him, "You know, I only complain so much because I hope you will compensate me a little..."

"How Slytherin of you!" Harry laughed, "Was this enough compensation for today's shift?"

"Why? Are you offering more?" Tom teased him lightly, delighting in the light blush that graced Harry's features, "I had the feeling you were enjoying yourself as well."

"I'm sorry I lost control," Harry hid his face in Tom's chest as he realised his mistake.

"You don't have to apologise. I don't want you to apologise." the Dark Lord replied firmly, "I love you just the way you are now and I don't want you to be ashamed or unsure of even the smallest part of yourself. It was great to feel you like this, to know that you really want me, too."

"Of course I want you. I only want you," Harry replied as Tom gently started to dry his hair. "That's good to know, my Harry. No-one will ever touch you like this; I will make sure of that. You will be mine forever, understood?"

"Yes," Harry merely smiled as Tom's arms tightened possessively around his waist.

"And this little one is mine also." Tom continued, caressing Harry's stomach, "How far are you along, kitten?"

"I don't know." Harry blushed and Tom raised an eyebrow in confusion, "I fainted at lunch so Draco and Blaise brought me to see Madam Pomfrey. I wanted you to be there. I wanted it to be different than last time. So I told her to wait with the details until you were there as well. I only know that I'm pregnant and that the baby is absolutely healthy."

"Thank you." Tom grinned, "Let's get dressed, okay?"

Harry smiled, quickly slipping back into his panties and his jeans before donning a new shirt because the old one had become wrinkled when he had slept on the sofa, ignoring Tom's dreamy gaze that rested on him.

"Are you ready to go, love?" Tom murmured in his ear, almost shyly placing a hand on Harry's abdomen.

The green-eyed boy gasped in surprise, capturing Tom's hand before he could pull it back. "I could feel the baby! Tom, I never felt this before!"

"What did you feel, precious?" Tom asked excitedly.

Harry closed his eyes, listening to his internal magic: "Happiness and comfort. Tom, this is amazing, you have to feel this."

He turned around in the older man's embrace and guided his free hand to his temple while the other stayed on his belly. The emotions Tom received this time were slightly dimmed and he had to strain to make them out, but they were definitely positive feelings and definitely the feelings of his son or daughter.

"I created life." he whispered in awe, "We created life. I never thought I would ever accomplish something like that. I can't believe it, thank you."

"I thank you, Tom," Harry smiled up at him, caressing his cheek, "for giving me a new life, for giving me the chance of a family, for making me belong somewhere."

Tom swallowed once, trying to get his emotions back under control, but knew that he was failing miserably as Harry chuckled lightly and tugged his arm impatiently. "Let's go, my Dark Lord, or you will have to face the wrath of Madam Pomfrey. And who would then take me out for dinner? I really need some apple strudel soon and ice cream and pancakes and... a pretzel, oh, yes, I definitely need a pretzel now. You know like they had when we were on our honeymoon? Those were great; can you get me one, please? Please?"

Tom just watched on in confusion as his husband enumerated all the things he would like to eat right now and silently reprimanded himself for introducing Harry to things like apple strudel and pretzels and so it took him a while to register Harry's smirk.

"You were teasing me?" he finally asked and Harry burst out laughing. "A little bit," he admitted impishly, "but we really shouldn't keep Madam Pomfrey waiting any longer. I want to ask her if she'd take me on as her apprentice during the pregnancy. I still want to become a healer, Tom, but I know that it's going to be hard and that you wouldn't allow me to start in St. Mungo's right now and I don't want to fall behind."

"Thank you, Harry," the red-eyed man murmured, "I was really a bit worried about that and I would feel better if Madam Pomfrey was there to keep an eye on you. I guess I'll ask Minerva to further my employment at Hogwarts."

"So that you can also keep an eye on me?" Harry laughed.

"So that I can keep an eye on the both of you." Tom corrected him, "You will be well taken care of, precious. I promise."

"I know," Harry answered and he did.

He knew that Tom would always be there for him, would always protect him, would always listen to him and respect and love him for his decisions. He knew that whatever trials they would have to face in the future that Tom would be at his side or in front of him, shielding him from all evil. He knew that nothing and no-one would be able to keep Tom away from him or the other way round and he knew that he loved Tom and was loved in return. And that was really all he needed to know.

---THE END---

* * *

**This is your last chance to review and I would greatly appreciate it if you did...**


End file.
